5,  *2  *1*  «  56  ® 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  J 

NORTH  CAROLINA 
AT  CHAPEL  HILL  » 


DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 
SOCIETIES 


PS1A00 

.FI  2 
1872 
v .  6 


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THE  HEADSMAN. 


headsman 


pS  I  4  OO 


•  »  ) 


c 


OR 


THE  ABB  A  YE  DES  YIGYEROYS 

A  TALE 


BY 

J.  FENIMORE  COOPER 


“  How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds 
Makes  deeds  ill  done.” 


NEW  YORK 

PUBLISHED  BY  HURD  AND  HOUGHTON 
Catnbriiige :  lliuersibe  }3rcss 


1872 


'<  j  •*.  JIT 


.  . , 


rr  •  •  n  !  .t 


lii  It  ):.  / 


INTRODUCTION. 


- — 

Early  in  October,  1832,  a  travelling  carriage  stopped 
on  the  summit  of  that  long  descent  where  the  road  pitches 
from  the  elevated  plain  of  Moudon,  in  Switzerland,  to  the 
level  of  the  lake  of  Geneva,  immediately  above  the  little 
city  of  Vevey.  The  postilion  had  dismounted  to  chain  a 
wheel,  and  the  halt  enabled  those  he  conducted  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  lovely  scenery  of  that  remarkable  view. 

The  travellers  were  an  American  family,  which  had  long 
been  wandering  about  Europe,  and  which  was  now  destined 
it  knew  not  whither,  having  just  traversed  a  thousand  miles 
of  Germany  in  its  devious  course.  Four  years  before,  the 
same  family  had  halted  on  the  same  spot,  nearly  on  the 
same  day  of  the  month  of  October,  and  for  precisely  the  same 
object.  It  was  then  journeying  to  Italy,  and  as  its  mem¬ 
bers  hung  over  the  view  of  the  Leman,  with  its  accessories 
of  Chillon,  Chatelard,  Blonay,  Meillerie,  the  peaks  of 
Savoy,  and  the  wild  ranges  of  the  Alps,  they  had  felt  re¬ 
gret  that  the  fairy  scene  was  so  soon  to  pass  away.  The 
case  was  now  different,  and  yielding  to  the  charm  of  a 
nature  so  noble,  and  yet  so  soft,  within  a  few  hours  the 
carriage  was  in  remise,  a  house  was  taken,  the  baggage 
unpacked,  and  the  household  gods  of  the  travellers  were 
erected,  for  the  twentieth  time,  in  a  strange  land. 

Our  American  (for  the  family  had  its  head)  was  familiar 
with  the  ocean,  and  the  sight  of  water  awoke  old  and 
pleasant  recollections.  He  was  hardly  established  in  Ve¬ 
vey  as  a  housekeeper,  before  he  sought  a  boat.  Chance 
brought  him  to  a  certain  Jean  Descloux  (we  give  the  spell 

576717  W £ 

I  C'll 


VI 


INTRODUCTION. 


ing  at  hazard),  with  whom  he  soon  struck  up  a  bargain, 
and  they  launched  forth  in  company  upon  the  lake. 

This  casual  meeting  was  the  commencement  of  an  agree¬ 
able  and  friendly  intercourse.  Jean  Descloux,  besides 
•  being  a  very  good  boatman,  was  a  respectable  philosopher 
in  his  way ;  possessing  a  tolerable  stock  of  general  informa¬ 
tion.  His  knowledge  of  America,  in  particular,  might  be 
deemed  a  little  remarkable.  He  knew  it  was  a  continent, 
which  lay  west  of  his  own  quarter  of  the  world ;  that  it 
had  a  place  in  it  called  New  Vevey;  that  all  the  whites 
who  had  gone  there  were  not  yet  black,  and  that  there 
were  plausible  hopes  it  might  one  day  be  civilized.  Find¬ 
ing  Jean  so  enlightened  on  a  subject  under  which  most  of 
the  eastern  savants  break  down,  the  American  thought  it 
well  enough  to  prick  him  closely  on  other  matters.  The 
worthy  boatman  turned  out  to  be  a  man  of  singularly  just 
discrimination.  He  was  a  reasonably  good  judge  of  the 
weather ;  had  divers  marvels  to  relate  concerning  the 
doings  of  the  lake ;  thought  the  city  very  wrong  for  not 
making  a  port  in  the  great  square  ;  always  maintained  that 
the  wine  of  St.  Sapliorin  was  very  savory  drinking  for  those 
who  could  get  no  better ;  laughed  at  the  idea  of  there  being 
sufficient  cordage  in  the  world  to  reach  to  the  bottom  of 
the  Genfer  See ;  was  of  opinion  that  the  trout  was  a  better 
fish  than  the  fera;  spoke  with  singular  moderation  of  his 
ancient  masters,  the  bourgeoisie  of  Berne,  which,  however, 
he  always  affirmed  kept  singularly  bad  roads  in  Yaud, 
while  those  around  its  own  city  were  the  best  in  Europe, 
and  otherwise  showed  himself  to  be  a  discreet  and  observ¬ 
ant  man.  In  short,  honest  Jean  Descloux  was  a  fair  sam¬ 
ple  of  that  homebred,  upright  common-sense,  which  seems 
to  form  the  instinct  of  the  mass,  and  which  it  is  greatly  the 
fashion  to  deride  in  those  circles  in  which  mystification 
passes  for  profound  thinking,  bold  assumption  for  evidence, 
a  simper  for  wit,  particular  personal  advantages  for  liberty, 
and  in  which  it  is  deemed  a  mortal  offense  against  good 


INTRODUCTION. 


«  • 
Vll 

manners  to  hint  that  Adam  and  Eve  were  the  common 
parents  of  mankind. 

“  Monsieur  has  chosen  a  good  time  to  visit  Vevey,”  ob¬ 
served  Jean  Descloux,  one  evening  that  they  were  drifting 
in  front  of  the  town,  the  whole  scenery  resembling  a  fairy 
picture  rather  than  a  portion  of  this  much-abused  earth ; 
“  it  blows  sometimes  at  this  end  of  the  lake  in  a  way  to 
frighten  the  gulls  out  of  it.  We  shall  see  no  more  of  the 
steamboat  after  the  last  of  the  month.” 

The  American  cast  a  glance  at  the  mountain,  drew  upon 
his  memory  for  sundry  squalls  and  gales  which  he  had 
seen  himself,  and  thought  the  boatman’s  figure  of  speech 
less  extravagant  than  it  had  at  first  seemed. 

“  If  your  lake  craft  were  better  constructed,  they  would 
make  better  weather,”  he  quietly  observed. 

Monsieur  Descloux  had  no  wish  to  quarrel  with  a  cus¬ 
tomer  who  employed  him  every  evening,  and  who  preferred 
floating  with  the  current  to  being  rowed  with  a  crooked 
oar.  He  manifested  his  prudence,  therefore,  by  making 
a  reserved  reply. 

“  No  doubt,  Monsieur,”  he  said,  “  that  the  people  who 
live  on  the  sea  make  better  vessels,  and  know  how  to  sail 
them  more  skillfully.  We  had  a  proof  of  that  here  at 
Vevey”  (he  pronounced  the  word  like  v-vait,  agreeably  to 
the  sounds  of  the  French  vowels),  “last  summer,  which 
you  might  like  to  hear.  An  English  gentleman  —  they 
say  he  was  a  captain  in  the  marine  —  had  a  vessel  built 
at  Nice,  and  dragged  over  the  mountains  to  our  lake.  He 
took  a  run  across  to  Meillerie  one  fine  morning,  and  no 
duck  ever  skimmed  along  lighter  or  swifter  !  He  was  not 
a  man  to  take  advice  from  a  Swiss  boatman,  for  he  had 
crossed  the  line  and  seen  water-spouts  and  whales!  Well, 
he  was  on  his  way  back  in  the  dark,  and  it  came  on  to 
blow  here  from  off  the  mountains,  and  he  stood  on  boldly 
toward  our  shore,  heaving  the  lead  as  he  drew  near  the 
land,  as  if  he  had  been  beating  into  Spithead  in  a  fog  ”  — 


Vlll 


INTRODUCTION. 


Jean  chuckled  at  the  idea  of  sounding  in  the  Leman 
—  “  while  he  flew  along  like  a  bold  mariner,  as  no  doubt 
he  was !  ” 

“  Landing,  I  suppose,”  said  the  American,  “  among  the 
lumber  in  the  great  square  ?  ” 

“  Monsieur  is  mistaken.  He  broke  his  boat’s  nose 
against  that  wall ;  and  the  next  day,  a  piece  of  her,  big 
enough  to  make  a  thole-pin,  was  not  to  be  found.  He 
might  as  well  have  sounded  the  heavens  !  ” 

“  The  lake  has  a  bottom,  notwithstanding  ?  ” 

66  Your  pardon,  Monsieur.  The  lake  has  no  bottom. 
The  sea  may  have  a  bottom,  but  we  have  no  bottom  here.” 
There  was  little  use  in  disputing  the  point. 

Monsieur  Descloux  then  spoke  of  the  revolutions  he  had 
seen.  He  remembered  the  time  when  Vaud  was  a  province 
of  Berne.  His  observations  on  this  subject  were  rational, 
and  were  well  seasoned'  with  common-sense.  His  doctrine 
was  simply  this  :  “  If  one  man  rule,  he  will  rule  for  his 

own  benefit  and  that  of  his  parasites  ;  if  a  minority  rule, 
we  have  many  masters  instead  of  one  ”  (honest  Jean  had 
got  hold  here  of  a  cant  saying  of  the  privileged,  which  he 
very  ingeniously  converted  against  themselves),  “all  of 
whom  must  be  fed  and  served ;  and  if  the  majority  rule, 
and  rule  wrongfully,  why,  the  minimum  of  harm  is  done.” 
He  admitted  that  the  people  might  be  deceived  to  their 
own  injury,  but  then  he  did  not  think  it  was  quite  as  likely 
to  happen,  as  that  they  should  be  oppressed  when  they 
were  governed  without  any  agency  of  their  own.  On  these 
points  the  American  and  the  Vaudois  were  absolutely  of 
the  same  mind. 

From  politics  the  transition  to  poetry  was  natural,  for  a 
common  ingredient  in  both  would  seem  to  be  fiction.  On 
the  subject  of  his  mountains,  Monsieur  Descloux  was  a 
thorough  Swiss.  He  expatiated  on  their  grandeur,  their 
storms,  their  height,  and  their  glaciers,  with  eloquence. 
The  worthy  boatman  had  some  such  opinions  of  the  superi- 


INTRODUCTION. 


ix 


ority  of  his  own  country  as  all  are  apt  to  form  who  have 
never  seen  any  other.  He  dwelt  on  the  glories  of  an  Ab- 
baye  des  Vignerons,  too,  with  the  gusto  of  a  Vevaisan,  and 
seemed  to  think  it  would  be  a  high  stroke  of  state  policy,  to 
get  up  a  new  fete  of  this  kind  as  speedily  as  possible.  In 
short,  the  world  and  its  interests  were  pretty  generally 
discussed  between  these  two  philosophers  during  an  inter¬ 
course  that  extended  to  a  month. 

Our  American  was  not  a  man  to  let  instruction  of  this 
nature  easily  escape  him.  He  lay  hours  at  a  time  on  the 
seats  of  Jean  Descloux’s  boat,  looking  up  at  the  mountains, 
or  watching  some  lazy  sail  on  the  lake,  and  speculating  on 
the  wisdom  of  which  he  was  so  accidentally  made  the  re¬ 
pository.  His  view  on  one  side  was  limited  by  the  glacier 
of  Mount  Velan,  a  near  neighbor  of  the  celebrated  col  of 
St.  Bernard ;  and  on  the  other,  his  eye  could  range  to  the 
smiling  fields  that  surround  Geneva.  Within  this  setting 
is  contained  one  of  the  most  magnificent  pictures  that  Na¬ 
ture  ever  drew,  and  he  bethought  him  of  the  human  actions, 
passions,  and  interests,  of  which  it  might  have  been  the 
scene.  By  a  connection  that  was  natural  enough  to  the 
situation,  he  imagined  a  fragment  of  life  passed  between 
these  grand  limits,  and  the  manner  in  which  men  could 
listen  to  the  never-wearied  promptings  of  their  impulses 
in  the  immediate  presence  of  the  majesty  of  the  Creator. 
He  bethought  him  of  the  analogies  that  exist  between  in¬ 
animate  nature  and  our  own  wayward  inequalities ;  of  the 
fearful  admixture  of  good  and  evil  of  which  we  are  com¬ 
posed;  of  the  manner  in  which  the  best  betray  their  sub¬ 
mission  to  the  devils,  and  in  which  the  worst  have  gleams 
of  that  eternal  principle  of  right,  by  which  they  have  been 
endowed  by  God ;  of  those  tempests  which  sometimes  lie 
dormant  in  our  systems,  like  the  slumbering  lake  in  the 
calm,  but  which,  excited,  equal  its  fury  when  lashed  by 
the  winds;  of  the  strength  of  prejudices;  of  the  worthless¬ 
ness  and  changeable  character  of  the  most  cherished  of  our 

O 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


opinions,  and  of  that  strange,  incomprehensible,  and  yet 
winning  melange  of  contradictions,  of  fallacies,  of  truths, 
and  of  wrongs,  which  make  up  the  sum  of  our  existence. 

The  following  pages  are  the  result  of  this  dreaming. 
The  reader  is  left  to  his  own  intelligence  for  the  moral. 

A  respectable  English  writer  observed :  “  All  pages  of 
human  life  are  worth  reading ;  the  wise  instruct ;  the  gay 
divert  us ;  the  imprudent  teach  us  what  to  shun ;  the  absurd 
cure  the  spleen.” 


THE  HE  AD  SM  AH. 


- ♦— - 

CHAPTER  I. 

Day  glimmered  and  I  went,  a  gentle  breeze 
Ruffling  the  Leman  lake. 

Rogers. 

The  year  was  in  its  fall,  according  to  a  poetical  expres¬ 
sion  of  our  own,  and  the  morning  bright,  as  the  fairest  and 
swiftest  bark  that  navigated  the  Leman  lay  at  the  quay  of 
the  ancient  and  historical  town  of  Geneva,  ready  to  depart 
for  the  country  of  Vaud.  This  vessel  was  called  the  Wink- 
elried,  in  commemoration  of  Arnold  of  that  name,  who  had 
so  generously  sacrificed  life  and  hopes  to  the  good  of  his 
country,  and  who  deservedly  ranks  among  the  truest  of  those 
heroes  of  whom  we  have  well-authenticated  legends.  She 
had  been  launched  at  the  commencement  of  the  summer, 
and  still  bore  at  the  fore-topmast-head  a  bunch  of  evergreens, 
profusely  ornamented  with  knots  and  streamers  of  ribbon, 
the  offerings  of  the  patron’s  female  friends,  and  the  fancied 
gage  of  success.  The  use  of  steam,  and  the  presence  of  un¬ 
employed  seamen  of  various  nations,  in  this  idle  season  of 
the  warlike,  are  slowly  leading  to  innovations  and  improve¬ 
ments  in  the  navigation  of  the  lakes  of  Italy  and  Switzer¬ 
land,  it  is  true  ;  but  time,  even  at  this  hour,  has  done  little 
towards  changing  the  habits  and  opinions  of  those  who  ply 
on  these  inland  waters  for  a  subsistence.  The  Winkelried 
had  the  two  low,  diverging  masts ;  the  attenuated  and  pic¬ 
turesquely-poised  latine  yards  ;  the  light,  triangular  sails  ; 
the  sweeping  and  projecting  gangways  ;  the  receding  and 
falling  stern  ;  the  high  and  peaked  prow,  with,  in  general, 

the  classical  and  quaint  air  of  those  vessels  that  are  seen  in 

1 


2 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


the  older  paintings  and  engravings.  A  gilded  ball  glittered 
on  the  summit  of  each  mast,  for  no  canvas  was  set  higher 
than  the  slender  and  well-balanced  yards,  and  it  was  above 
one  of  these  that  the  wilted  bush,  with  its  gay  appendages, 
trembled  and  fluttered  in  a  fresh  western  wind.  The  hull 
was  worthy  of  so  much  goodly  apparel,  being  spacious,  com¬ 
modious,  and,  according  to  the  wants  of  the  navigation,  of 
approved  mould.  The  freight,  which  was  sufficiently  obvi¬ 
ous,  much  the  greatest  part  being  piled  on  the  ample  deck, 
consisted  of  what  our  own  watermen  would  term  an  assorted 
cargo.  It  was,  however,  chiefly  composed  of  those  foreign 
luxuries,  as  they  were  then  called,  though  use  has  now 
rendered  them  nearly  indispensable  to  domestic  economy, 
which  were  consumed,  in  singular  moderation,  by  the  more 
affluent  of  those  who  dwelt  deeper  among  the  mountains, 
and  of  the  two  principal  products  of  the  dairy  ;  the  latter 
being  destined  to  a  market  in  the  less  verdant  countries  of 
the  south.  To  these  must  be  added  the  personal  effects  of 
an  unusual  number  of  passengers,  which  were  stowed  on  the 
top  of  the  heavier  part  of  the  cargo,  with  an  order  and  care 
that  their  value  would  scarcely  seem  to  require.  The  ar¬ 
rangement,  however,  was  necessary  to  the  convenience,  and 
even  to  the  security  of  the  bark,  having  been  made  by  the 
patron  with  a  view  to  posting  each  individual  by  his  par¬ 
ticular  wallet,  in  a  manner  to  prevent  confusion  in  the 
crowd,  and  to  leave  the  crew  space  and  opportunity  to  dis¬ 
charge  the  necessary  duties  of  the  navigation. 

With  a  vessel  stowed,  sails  ready  to  drop,  the  wind  fair, 
and  the  day  drawing  on  aj>ace,  the  patron  of  the  Winkel- 
ried,  who  was  also  her  owner,  felt  a  very  natural  wish  to 
depart.  But  an  unlooked-for  obstacle  had  just  presented 
itself  at  the  water-gate,  where  the  officer  charged  with  the 
duty  of  looking  into  the  characters  of  all  who  went  and  came 
was  posted,  and  around  whom  some  fifty  representatives  of 
half  as  many  nations  were  now  clustered  in  a  clamorous 
throng,  filling  the  air  with  a  confusion  of  tongues  that  had 
some  probable  affinity  to  the  noises  which  deranged  the 
workmen  of  Babel.  It  appeared,  by  parts  of  sentences  and 
broken  remonstrances,  equally  addressed  to  the  patron, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


8 


whose  name  was  Baptiste,  and  to  the  guardian  of  the  Gene* 
vese  laws,  a  rumor  was  rife  among  these  truculent  travellers, 
that  Balthazar,  the  headsman,  or  executioner,  of  the  power¬ 
ful  and  aristocratical  canton  of  Berne,  was  about  to  be 
smuggled  into  their  company  by  she  cupidity  of  the  former, 
contrary,  not  only  to  what  was  due  to  the  feelings  and  rights 
of  men  of  more  creditable  callings,  but,  as  it  was  vehemently 
and  plausibly  insisted,  to  the  very  safety  of  those  who  were 
about  to  trust  their  fortunes  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  ele¬ 
ments. 

Chance  and  the  ingenuity  of  Baptiste  had  collected,  on 
this  occasion,  as  parti-colored  and  heterogeneous  an  assem¬ 
blage  of  human  passions,  interests,  dialects,  wishes,  and 
opinions,  as  any  admirer  of  diversity  of  character  could  de¬ 
sire.  There  were  several  small  traders,  some  returning 
from  adventures  in  Germany  and  France,  and  some  bound 
southward,  with  their  scanty  stock  of  wares ;  a  few  poor 
scholars,  bent  on  a  literary  pilgrimage  to  Rome ;  an  artist 
or  two,  better  provided  with  enthusiasm  than  with  either 
knowledge  or  taste,  journeying  with  poetical  longings  to¬ 
wards  skies  and  tints  of  Italy  ;  a  troupe  of  street  jugglers, 
who  had  been  turning  their  Neapolitan  buffoonery  to  ac¬ 
count  among  the  duller  and  less  sophisticated  inhabitants  of 
Swabia  ;  divers  lacke}7s  out  of  place  ;  some  six  or  eight  cap¬ 
italists  who  lived  on  their  wits,  and  a  nameless  herd  of  that 
set  which  the  French  call  “bad  subjects;”  a  title  that  is 
just  now,  oddly  enough,  disputed  between  the  dregs  of  so- 
cietv  and  a  class  that  would  fain  become  its  exclusive  lead- 
ers  and  lords. 

These,  with  some  slight  qualifications  that  it  is  not  yet 
necessary  to  particularize,  composed  that  essential  requisite 
of  all  fair  representation  —  the  majority.  Those  who  re¬ 
mained  were  of  a  different  caste.  Near  the  noisy  crowd  of 
tossing  heads  and  brandished  arms,  in  and  around  the  gate, 
was  a  party  containing  the  venerable  and  still  fine  figure  of 
a  man  in  the  travelling  dress  of  one  of  superior  condition, 
and  who  did  not  need  the  testimony  of  the  two  or  three 
liveried  menials  that  stood  near  his  person,  to  give  an  as¬ 
surance  of  his  belonging  to  the  more  fortunate  of  his  fellow- 


4 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


creatures,  as  good  and  evil  are  usually  estimated  in  calculat¬ 
ing  the  chances  of  life.  On  his  arm  leaned  a  female,  so 
young,  and  yet  so  lovely,  as  to  cause  regret  in  all  who  ob¬ 
served  her  fading  color,  the  sweet  but  melancholy  smile  that 
occasionally  lighted  her  mild  and  pleasing  features,  at  some 
of  the  more  marked  exuberances  of  folly  among  the  crowd, 
and  a  form  which,  notwithstanding  her  lessened  bloom,  was 
nearly  perfect.  If  these  symptoms  of  delicate  health  did 
not  prevent  this  fair  girl  from  being  amused  at  the  volubility 
and  arguments  of  the  different  orators,  she  oftener  mani¬ 
fested  apprehension  at  finding  herself  the  companion  of 
creatures  so  untrained,  so  violent,  so  exacting,  and  so  grossly 
ignorant.  A  young  man,  wearing  the  roquelaure  and  other 
similar  appendages  of  a  Swiss  in  foreign  military  service,  a 
character  to  excite  neither  observation  nor  comment  in  that 
age,  stood  at  her  elbow,  answering  the  questions  that  from 
time  to  time  were  addressed  to  him  by  the  others,  in  a  man¬ 
ner  to  show  he  was  an  intimate  acquaintance,  though  there 
were  signs  about  his  travelling  equipage  to  prove  he  was 
not  exactly  of  their  ordinary  society.  Of  all  who  were  not 
immediately  engaged  in  the  boisterous  discussion  at  the  gate, 
this  young  soldier,  who  was  commonly  addressed  by  those 
near  him  as  Monsieur  Sigismund,  was  much  the  most  in¬ 
terested  in  its  progress.  Though  of  herculean  frame,  and 
evidently  of  unusual  physical  force,  he  was  singularly  agi¬ 
tated.  His  cheek,  which  had  not  yet  lost  the  freshness  due 
to  the  mountain  air,  would,  at  times,  become  pale  as  that  of 
the  wilting  flower  near  him  ;  while  at  others,  the  blood 
rushed  across  his  brow  in  a  torrent  that  seemed  to  threaten 
a  rupture  of  the  starting  vessels  in  which  it  so  tumultuously 
flowed.  Unless  addressed,  however,  he  said  nothing ;  his 
distress  gradually  subsiding,  until  it  was  merely  betrayed 
by  the  convulsive  writhings  of  his  fingers,  which  uncon¬ 
sciously  grasped  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

The  uproar  had  now  continued  for  some  time  ;  throats 
were  getting  sore,  tongues  clammy,  voices  hoarse,  and 
words  incoherent,  when  a  sudden  check  was  given  to  the 
useless  clamor  by  an  incident  quite  in  unison  with  the  dis¬ 
turbance  itself.  Two  enormous  dogs  were  in  attendance 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


5 


hard  by,  apparently  awaiting  the  movements  of  their 
respective  masters,  who  were  lost  to  view  in  the  mass  of 
heads  and  bodies  that  stopped  the  passage  of  the  gate. 
One  of  these  animals  was  covered  with  a  short,  thick  coat¬ 
ing  of  hair,  whose  prevailing  color  was  a  dingy  yellow,  but 
whose  throat  and  legs,  with  most  of  the  inferior  parts  of  the 
body,  were  of  a  dull  white.  Nature,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  given  a  dusky,  brownish,  shaggy  dress  to  his  rival, 
though  his  general  hue  was  relieved  by  a  few  shades  of  a 
more  decided  black.  As  respects  weight  and  force  of  body, 
the  difference  between  the  brutes  was  not  very  obvious, 
though  perhaps  it  slightly  inclined  in  favor  of  the  former, 
who  in  length,  if  not  in  strength,  of  limb,  however,  had 
more  manifestly  the  advantage. 

%/  * J 

It  would  much  exceed  the  intelligence  we  have  brought 
to  this  task  to  explain  how  far  the  instincts  of  the  dogs 
sympathized  in  the  savage  passions  of  the  human  beings 
around  them,  or  whether  they  were  conscious  that  their 
masters  had  espoused  opposite  sides  in  the  quarrel,  and  that 
it  became  them,  as  faithful  esquires,  to  tilt  together  by  way 
of  supporting  the  honor  of  those  they  followed  ;  but,  after 
measuring  each  other  for  the  usual  period  with  the  eye, 
they  came  violently  together,  body  to  body,  in  the  manner 
of  their  species.  The  collision  was  fearful,  and  the  struggle, 
being  between  two  creature  of  so  great  size  and  strength, 
of  the  fiercest  kind.  The  roar  resembled  that  of  lions, 
effectually  drowning  the  clamor  of  human  voices.  Every 
tongue  was  mute,  and  each  head  was  turned  in  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  the  combatants.  The  trembling  girl  recoiled  with 
averted  face,  while  the  young  man  stepped  eagerly  forward 
to  protect  her,  for  the  conflict  was  near  the  place  they 
occupied  ;  but  powerful  and  active  as  was  his  frame,  he 
hesitated  about  mingling  in  an  affray  so  ferocious.  At  this 
critical  moment,  when  it  seemed  that  the  furious  brutes 
were  on  the  point  of  tearing  each  other  in  pieces,  the 
crowd  was  pushed  violently  open,  and  two  men  burst, 
side  by  side,  out  of  the  mass.  One  wore  the  black  robes, 
the  conical,  Asiatic-looking,  tufted  cap,  and  the  white  belt 
of  an  Augustine  monk,  and  the  other  had  the  attire  of  a 


6 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


mail  addicted  to  the  seas,  without,  however,  being  so 
decidedly  maritime  as  to  leave  his  character  a  matter  that 
was  auite  beyond  dispute.  The  former  was  fair,  ruddy, 
with  an  oval,  happy  face,  of  which  internal  peace  and  good¬ 
will  to  his  fellows  were  the  principal  characteristics;  while 
the  latter  had  the  swarthy  hue,  bold  lineaments,  and  glit¬ 
tering  eye,  of  an  Italian. 

“  Uberto  !  ”  said  the  monk  reproachfully,  affecting  the 
sort  of  offended  manner  that  one  would  be  apt  to  show  to  a 
more  intelligent  creature,  willing,  but  at  the  same  time 
afraid,  to  trust  his  person  nearer  to  the  furious  conflict, 
“  shame  on  thee,  old  Uberto  !  Hast  forgotten  thy  schooling 
—  hast  no  respect  for  thine  own  good  name  ?  ” 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Italian  did  not  stop  to  expos¬ 
tulate  ;  but  throwing  himself  with  reckless  hardihood  on 
the  dogs,  by  dint  of  kicks  and  blows,  of  which  much  the 
heaviest  portion  fell  on  the  follower  of  the  Augustine,  he 
succeeded  in  separating  the  combatants. 

“  Ha,  Nettuno  !”  he  exclaimed,  with  the  severity  of  one 
accustomed  to  exercise  a  stern  and  absolute  authority,  so 
soon  as  this  daring  exploit  was  achieved,  and  he  had 
recovered  a  little  of  the  breath  lost  in  the  violent  exertion, 
what  dost  mean  ?  Canst  find  no  better  amusement  than 
quarreling  with  a  dog  of  San  Bernardo  !  Fie  upon  thee, 
foolish  Nettuno  !  I  am  ashamed  of  thee,  dog :  thou,  that 
hast  discreetly  navigated  so  many  seas,  to  lose  thy  temper 
on  a  bit  of  fresh  water  !  ” 

The  dog,  which  was  in  truth  no  other  than  a  noble 
animal  of  the  well-known  Newfoundland  breed,  hung  his 
head,  and  made  signs  of  contrition,  by  drawing  nearer  to 
his  master  with  a  tail  that  swept  the  ground,  while  his  late 
adversary  quietly  seated  himself  with  a  species  of  monastic 
dignity,  looking  from  the  speaker  to  his  foe,  as  if  endeav¬ 
oring  to  comprehend  the  rebuke  which  his  powerful  and 
gallant  antagonist  took  so  meekly. 

“  Father,”  said  the  Italian,  “  our  dogs  are  both  too  useful 
in  their  several  ways,  and  both  of  too  good  character  to  be 
enemies.  I  know  Uberto  of  old,  for  the  paths  of  St.  Ber¬ 
nard  and  I  are  no  strangers,  and  if  report  does  the  animal 


THE  HEADSMAN.  7 

no  more  than  justice,  he  hath  not  been  an  idle  cur  among 
the  snows.” 

“  He  hath  been  the  instrument  of  saving  seven  Christians 
from  death,”  answered  the  monk,  beginning  again  to  regard 
his  mastiff  with  friendly  looks,  for  at  first  there  had  been 
keen  reproach  and  severe  displeasure  in  his  manner,  “  not 
to  speak  of  the  bodies  that  have  been  found  by  his  activity, 
after  the  vital  spark  had  fled.” 

“  As  for  the  latter,  father,  we  can  count  little  more  in 
favor  of  the  dog  than  a  good  intention.  Valuing  services 
on  this  scale,  I  might  ere  this  have  been  the  holy  father 
himself,  or  at  least  a  cardinal  ;  but  seven  lives  saved,  for 
their  owners  to  die  quietly  in  their  beds,  and  with  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  make  their  peace  with  Heaven,  is  no  bad  recom¬ 
mendation  for  a  dog.  Nettuno,  here,  is  every  way  worthy 
to  be  the  friend  of  old  Uberto,  for  thirteen  drowning  men 
have  I  myself  seen  him  draw  from  the  greedy  jaws  of  sharks 
and  other  monsters  of  deep  water.  What  dost  thou  say, 
father ;  shall  we  make  peace  between  the  brutes  ?  ” 

The  Augustine  expressed  his  readiness,  as  well  as  his  de¬ 
sire,  to  aid  in  an  effort  so  laudable,  and  by  dint  of  com¬ 
mands  and  persuasion,  the  dogs,  who  were  predisposed  to 
peace  from  having  had  a  mutual  taste  of  the  bitterness  of 
war,  and  who  now  felt  for  each  other  the  respect  which 
courage  and  force  are  apt  to  create,  were  soon  on  the  usual 
terms  of  animals  of  their  kind  that  have  no  particular 
grounds  for  contention. 

The  guardian  of  the  city  improved  the  calm  produced  by 
this  little  incident,  to  regain  a  portion  of  his  lost  authority. 
Beating  back  the  crowd  with  his  cane,  he  cleared  a  space 
around  the  gate  into  which  but  one  of  the  travellers  could 
enter  at  a  time,  while  he  professed  himself  not  only  ready 
but  determined  to  proceed  with  his  duty,  without  further 
procrastination.  Baptiste  the  patron,  who  beheld  the 
precious  moments  wasting,  and  who,  in  the  delay,  foresaw  a 
loss  of  wind,  which,  to  one  of  his  pursuits,  was  loss  of 
money,  now  earnestly  pressed  the  travellers  to  comply  with 
the  necessary  forms,  and  to  take  their  stations  in  his  bark 
with  all  convenient  speed. 


8 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Of  what  matter  is  it,”  continued  the  calculating  water¬ 
man,  who  was  rather  conspicuously  known  for  the  love  of 
thrift  that  is  usually  attributed  to  most  of  the  inhabitants 
of  that  region,  “  whether  there  be  one  headsman  or  twenty 
in  the  bark,  so  long  as  the  good  vessel  can  boat  and  steer  ? 
Our  Leman  winds  are  fickle  friends,  and  the  wise  take  them 
while  in  the  humor.  Give  me  the  breeze  at  west,  and  I 
will  load  the  Winkelried  to  the  water’s  edge  with  execu¬ 
tioners,  or  any  other  pernicious  creatures  thou  wilt,  and 
thou  mayest  take  the  lightest  bark  that  ever  swam  in  the 
bise,  and  let  us  see  who  will  first  make  the  haven  of 
Vevey !  ” 

The  loudest,  and  in  a  sense  that  is  very  important  in  all 
such  discussions,  the  principal  speaker  in  the  dispute  was 
the  leader  of  the  Neapolitan  troupe,  who,  in  virtue  of  good 
lungs,  an  agility  that  had  no  competitor  in  any  present,  and 
a  certain  mixture  of  superstition  and  bravado,  that  formed 
nearly  equal  ingredients  in  his  character,  was  a  man  likely 
to  gain  great  influence  with  those  who,  from  their  ignorance 
and  habits,  had  an  inherent  love  of  the  marvelous,  and  a 
profound  respect  for  all  who  possessed,  in  acting,  more 
audacity,  and,  in  believing,  more  credulity  than  themselves. 
The  vulgar  like  an  excess,  even  if  it  be  of  folly  ;  for,  in 
their  eyes,  the  abundance  of  any  particular  quality  is  very 
apt  to  be  taken  as  the  standard  of  its  excellence. 

“  This  is  well  for  him  who  receives,  but  it  may  be  death 
to  him  that  pays,”  cried  the  son  of  the  south,  gaining  not  a 
little  among  his  auditors  by  the  distinction,  for  the 
argument  was  sufficiently  wily,  as  between  the  buyer  and 
the  seller.  “  Thou  wilt  get  thy  silver  for  the  risk,  and,  we 
may  get  watery  graves  for  our  weakness.  Naught  but 
mishaps  can  come  of  wicked  company,  and  accursed  will 
they  be,  in  the  evil  hour,  that  are  found  in  brotherly  com¬ 
munion  with  one  whose  trade  is  hurrying  Christians  into 
eternity,  before  the  time  that  has  been  lent  by  nature  is 
fairly  up.  Santa  Madre !  I  would  not  be  the  fellow- 
traveller  of  such  a  wretch,  across  this  wild  and  changeable 
lake,  for  the  honor  of  leaping  and  showing  my  poor  powers 
in  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Father,  and  the  whole  of  the 
learned  conclave !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


9 


This  solemn  declaration,  which  .  was  made  with  suitable 
gesticulation,  and  an  action  of  the  countenance  that  was 
well  adapted  to  prove  the  speaker’s  sincerity,  produced  a 
corresponding  effect  on  most  of  the  listeners,  who  mur¬ 
mured  their  applause  in  a  manner  sufficiently  significant  to 
convince  the  patron  he  was  not  about  to  dispose  of  the 
difficulty  simply  by  virtue  of  fair  words.  In  this  dilemma, 
he  bethought  him  of  a  plan  of  overcoming  the  scruples  of 
all  present,  in  which  he  was  warmly  seconded  by  the  agent 
of  the  police,  and  to  which,  after  the  usual  number  of  cavil¬ 
ing  objections  that  were  generated  by  distrust,  heated  blood, 
and  the  obstinacy  of  disputation,  the  other  parties  were 
finally  induced  to  give  their  consent.  It  was  agreed  that 
the  examination  should  no  longer  be  delayed,  but  that  a 
species  of  deputation  from  the  crowd  might  take  their  stand 
within  the  gate,  where  all  who  passed  would  necessarily  be 
subject  to  their  scrutiny,  and,  in  the  event  of  their  vigilance 
detecting  the  abhorred  and  proscribed  Balthazar,  that  the 
patron  should  return  his  money  to  the  headsman,  and  pre¬ 
clude  him  from  forming  one  of  the  party  that  was  so 
scrupulous  of  its  association,  and  apparently  with  so  little 
reason.  The  Neapolitan,  whose  name  was  Pippo  ;  one  of 
the  indigent  scholars,  for  a  century  since  learning  was 
rather  an  auxiliary  than  the  foe  of  superstition  ;  and  a 
certain  Nicklaus  Wagner,  a  fat  Bernese,  who  was  the 
owner  of  most  of  the  cheeses  in  the  bark,  were  the  chosen 
of  the  multitude  on  this  occasion.  The  first  owed  his 
election  to  his  vehemence  and  volubility,  qualities  that  the 
ignoble  vulgar  are  very  apt  to  mistake  for  conviction  and 
knowledge  :  the  second  to  his  silence  and  a  demureness  of 
air  which  pass  with  another  class  for  the  stillness  of  deep 
water ;  and  the  last  to  his  substance,  as  a  man  of  known 
wealth,  an  advantage  which,  in  spite  of  all  that  alarmists 
predict  on  one  side  and  enthusiasts  affirm  on  the  other,  will 
always  carry  greater  weight  with  those  who  are  less  fortu¬ 
nate  in  this  respect,  than  is  either  reasonable  or  morally 
healthful,  provided  it  is  not  abused  by  arrogance  or  by  the 
assumption  of  very  extravagant  and  oppressive  privileges. 
As  a  matter  of  course,  these  deputed  guardians  of  the 


10 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


common  rights  were  first  obliged  to  submit  their  own 

O  o 

papers  to  the  eye  of  the  Genevese.1 

The  Neapolitan,  than  whom  an  archer  knave,  or  one  that 
had  committed  more  petty  wrongs,  did  not  present  himself 
that  day  at  the  water-gate,  was  reguarly  fortified  by  every 
precaution  that  the  long  experience  of  a  vagabond  could 
suggest,  and  he  was  permitted  to  pass  forthwith.  The  poor 
Westphalian  student  presented  an  instrument  fairly  written 
out  in  scholastic  Latin,  and  escaped  further  trouble  by  the 
vanity  of  the  unlettered  agent  of  the  police,  who  hastily 
affirmed  it  was  a  pleasure  to  encounter  documents  so  per¬ 
fectly  in  form.  But  the  Bernese  was  about  to  take  his  sta¬ 
tion  by  the  side  of  the  other  two,  appearing  to  think  inquiry 
in  his  case  unnecessary.  While  moving  through  the  pas¬ 
sage  in  stately  silence,  Nicklaus  Wagner  was  occupied  in 
securing  the  strings  of  a  well-filled  purse,  which  he  had  just 
lightened  of  a  small  copper  coin,  to  reward  the  varlet  of  the 
hostelry  in  which  he  had  passed  the  night,  and  who  had 
been  obliged  to  follow  him  to  the  port  to  obtain  even  this 
scanty  boon ;  and  the  Genevese  was  fain  to  believe  that,  in 
the  urgency  of  this  important  concern,  he  had  overlooked 
those  forms  which  all  were  just  then  obliged  to  respect,  on 
quitting  the  town. 

“  Thou  hast  a  name  and  character  ?  ”  observed  the  hitter, 
with  official  brevity. 

“  God  help  thee,  friend !  I  did  not  think  Geneva  had  been 
so  particular  with  a  Swiss ;  and  a  Swiss  who  is  so  favora¬ 
bly  known  on  the  Aar,  and  indeed  over  the  whole  of  the 
great  canton !  I  am  Nicklaus  Wagner,  a  name  of  little  ac¬ 
count,  perhaps,  but  which  is  well  esteemed  among  men  of 
substance,  and  which  has  a  right  even  to  the  biirgerschaft 
—  Nicklaus  Wagner  of  Berne  —  thou  wilt  scarce  need 
more  ?  ” 

1  As  we  have  so  often  alluded  to  this  examination,  it  may  be  well  to  explain, 
that  the  present  system  of  gendarmerie  and  passports  did  not  then  prevail  in 
Europe;  taking  their  rise  nearly  a  century  later  than  that  in  which  the  events 
of  this  tale  had  place.  But  Geneva  was  a  small  and  exposed  state,  and  the 
regulation  to  which  there  is  reference  here,  was  one  of  the  provisions  which 
were  resorted  to  from  time  to  time  in  order  to  protect  those  liberties  and  that 
independence,  of  which  its  citizens  were  so  unceasingly  and  so  wisely  jealous. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


11 


“  Naught  but  proof  of  its  truth.  Thou  wilt  remember 
this  is  Geneva ;  the  laws  of  a  small  and  exposed  state  need 
be  particular  in  affairs  of  this  nature.” 

“  I  never  questioned  thy  state  being  Geneva ;  I  only 
wonder  thou  shouldst  doubt  my  being  Nicklaus  Wagner !  I 
can  journey  the  darkest  night  that  ever  threw  a  shadow 
from  the  mountains,  anywhere  between  the  Jura  and  the 
Oberland,  and  none  shall  say  my  word  is  to  be  disputed. 
Look’ee,  there  is  the  patron,  Baptiste,  who  will  tell  thee, 
that  if  he  were  to  land  the  freight  which  is  shipped  in  my 
name,  his  bark  would  float  greatly  the  lighter.” 

All  this  time  Nicklaus  was  nothing  loth  to  show  his 
papers,  which  were  quite  in  rule.  He  even  held  them, 
with  a  thumb  and  finger  separating  the  folds,  ready  to 
be  presented  to  his  questioner.  The  hesitation  came  from 
a  feeling  of  wounded  vanity,  which  would  gladly  show  that 
one  of  his  local  importance  and  known  substance  was  to  be 
exempt  from  the  exactions  required  from  men  of  smaller 
means.  The  officer,  who  had  great  practice  in  this  species 
of  collision  with  his  fellow-creatures,  understood  the  char¬ 
acter  with  which  he  had  to  deal,  and,  seeing  no  good 
reason  for  refusing  to  gratify  a  feeling  which  was  innocent, 
though  sufficiently  silly,  he  yielded  to  the  Bernese  pride. 

“  Thou  canst  proceed,”  he  said,  turning  the  indulgence  to 
account,  with  a  ready  knowledge  of  his  duty  ;  “  and  when 
thou  gettest  again  among  thy  burghers,  do  us  of  Geneva  the 
grace  to  say,  we  treat  our  allies  fairly.” 

“  I  thought  thy  question  hasty  !  ”  exclaimed  the  wealthy 
peasant,  swelling  like  one  who  gets  justice,  though  tardily. 
“  Now  let  us  to  this  knotty  affair  of  the  headsman.” 

Taking  his  place  with  the  Neapolitan  and  the  West¬ 
phalian,  Nicklaus  assumed  the  grave  air  of  a  judge,  and  an 
austerity  of  manner  which  proved  that  he  entered  on  his 
duty  with  a  firm  resolution  to  do  justice. 

ki  Thou  art  well  known  here,  pilgrim,”  observed  the  offi¬ 
cer,  with  some  severity  of  tone,  to  the  next  that  came  to 
the  gate. 

“  St.  Francis  to  speed,  master,  it  were  else  wonderful !  I 
should  be  so,  for  the  seasons  scarce  come  and  go  more 
regularly.” 


12 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  There  must  be  a  sore  conscience  somewhere,  that  Rome 
and  thou  should  need  each  other  so  often  !  ” 

The  pilgrim,  who  was  enveloped  in  a  tattered  coat, 
sprinkled  with  cockle-shells,  who  wore  his  beard,  and  was 
altogether  a  disgusting  picture  of  human  depravity,  rendered 
still  more  revolting  by  an  ill-concealed  hypocrisy,  laughed 
openly  and  recklessly  at  the  remark. 

“  Thou  art  a  follower  of  Calvin,  master,”  lie  replied,  “  or 
thou  wouldst  not  have  said  this.  My  own  failings  give  me 
little  trouble.  I  am  engaged  by  certain  parishes  of  Ger¬ 
many  to  take  upon  my  poor  person  their  physical  pains, 
and  it  is  not  easy  to  name  another  that  hath  done  as  many 
messages  of  this  kind  as  myself,  with  better  proofs  of  fidelity. 
If  thou  hast  any  little  offering  to  make,  thou  slialt  see  fair 
papers  to  prove  what  I  say ;  papers  that  would  pass  at  St. 
Peter’s  itself !  ” 

The  officer  perceived  that  he  had  to  do  with  one  of  those 
unequivocal  hypocrites  —  if  such  a  word  can  properly  be 
applied  to  him  who  scarcely  thought  deception  necessary  — 
who  then  made  a  traffic  of  expiations  of  this  nature  ;  a 
pursuit  that  was  common  enough  at  the  close  of  the  seven¬ 
teenth  and  in  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  cen¬ 
turies,  and  which  has  not  even  yet  entirely  disappeared 
from  Europe.  He  threw  the  pass  with  unconcealed  aver¬ 
sion  towards  the  profligate,  who,  recovering  his  document, 
assumed  unasked  his  station  by  the  side  of  the  three  who 
had  been  selected  to  decide  on  the  fitness  of  those  who  were 
to  be  allowed  to  embark. 

“  Go  to  !”  cried  the  officer,  as  he.  permitted  this  ebullition 
of  disgust  to  escape  him ;  “  thou  hast  well  said  that  we  are 
followers  of  Calvin.  Geneva  has  little  in  common  with  her 
of  the  scarlet  mantle,  and  thou  wilt  do  well  to  remember 
this,  in  thy  next  pilgrimage,  lest  the  beadle  make  acquaint¬ 
ance  with  thy  back.  Plold  !  who  art  thou  ?  ” 

“  A  heretic,  hopelessly  damned  by  anticipation,  if  that 
of  yonder  travelling  prayer-monger  be  the  true  faith ;  ” 
answered  one  who  was  pressing  past,  with  a  quiet  assurance 
that  had  near  carried  its  point  without  incurring  the 
risks  of  the  usual  investigation  into  his  name  and  character. 


TT1E  HEADSMAN. 


13 


It  was  the  owner  of  Nettuno,  whose  aquatic  air  and  perfect 
self-possession  now  caused  the  officer  to  doubt  whether  he 
had  not  stopped  a  waterman  of  the  lake  —  a  class  privileged 
to  come  and  <m  at  will. 

o  / 

“  Thou  knowest  our  usages,”  said  the  half-satisfied 
Genevese. 

“  I  were  a  fool  else  !  Even  the  ass  that  often  travels  the 
same  path  comes  in  time  to  tell  its  turns  and  windings. 
Art  not  satisfied  with  touching  the  pride  of  the  worthy 
Nicklaus  Wagner,  by  putting  the  well-warmed  burgher  to 
his  proofs,  but  thou  wouldst  e’en  question  me !  Come 
hither,  Nettuno  ;  thou  shalt  answer  for  both,  being  a  dog  of 
discretion.  We  are  no  go-betweens  of  heaven  and  earth, 
thou  knowest,  but  creatures  that  come  part  of  the  water  and 
part  of  the  land  !  ” 

The  Italian  spoke  loud  and  confidently,  and  in  the  man¬ 
ner  of  one  who  addressed  himself  more  to  the  humors  of 
those  near  than  to  the  understanding  of  the  Genevese.  He 
laughed,  and  looked  about  him  in  a  manner  to  extract  an 
echo  from  the  crowd,  though  not  one  among  them  all  could 
probably  have  given  a  sufficient  reason  why  he  had  so  readily 
taken  part  with  the  stranger  against  the  authorities  of  the 
town,  unless  it  might  have  been  from  the  instinct  of  opposi¬ 
tion  to  the  law. 

“  Thou  hast  a  name  ?  ”  continued  the  half-yielding,  half- 
doubting  guardian  of  the  port. 

“  Dost  take  me  to  be  worse  off  than  the  bark  of  Baptiste, 
there  ?  I  have  papers,  too,  if  thou  wilt  that  I  go  to  the 
vessel  in  order  to  seek  them.  This  dog  is  Nettuno,  a  brute 
from  a  far  country,  where  brutes  swim  like  fishes,  and  my 
name  is  Maso,  though  wicked-minded  men  call  me  oftener 
II  Maledetto  than  by  any  other  title.” 

All  in  the  throng,  who  understood  the  signification  of 
what  the  Italian  said,  laughed  aloud,  and  apparently  with 
great  glee,  for,  to  the  grossly  vulgar,  extreme  audacity  has 
an  irresistible  charm.  The  officer  felt  that  the  merriment 
was  against  him,  though  he  scarce  knew  why  ;  and  ignorant 
of  the  language  in  which  the  other  had  given  his  extraordi¬ 
nary  appellation,  he  yielded  to  the  contagion,  and  laughed 


14 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


with  the  others,  like  one  who  understood  the  joke  to  the 
bottom.  The  Italian  profited  by  this  advantage,  nodded 
familiarly  with  a  good-natured  and  knowing  smile,  and  pro¬ 
ceeded.  Whistling  the  dog  to  his  side,  he  walked  leisurely 
to  the  bark,  into  which  he  was  the  first  that  entered,  always 
preserving  the  deliberation  and  calm  of  a  man  who  felt 
himself  privileged,  and  safe  from  further  molestation.  This 
cool  audacity  effected  its  purpose,  though  one  long  and 
closely  hunted  by  the  law  evaded  the  authorities  of  the 
town,  when  this  singular  being  took  his  seat  by  the  little 
package  which  contained  his  scanty  wardrobe. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


15 


CHAPTER  H. 

My  nobiel  liege !  all  my  request 
Ys  for  a  nobile  knyghte, 

Who,  tho’  mayhap  he  has  done  wronge, 

Hee  thought®  ytt  stylle  was  righte. 

Chattekton. 

While  this  impudent  evasion  of  vigilance  was  success¬ 
fully  practiced  by  so  old  an  offender,  the  trio  of  sentinels, 
with  their  volunteer  assistant,  the  pilgrim,  manifested  the 
greatest  anxiety  to  prevent  the  contamination  of  admitting 
the  highest  executioner  of  the  law  to  form  one  of  the 
strangely  assorted  company.  No  sooner  did  the  Genevese 
permit  a  traveller  to  pass,  than  they  commenced  their  pri¬ 
vate  and  particular  examination,  which  was  sufficiently 
fierce,  for  more  than  once  had  they  threatened  to  turn  back 
the  trembling,  ignorant  applicant  on  mere  suspicion.  The 
cunning  Baptiste  lent  himself  to  their  feelings  with  the  skill 
of  a  demagogue,  affecting  a  zeal  equal  to  their  own,  while 
at  the  same  time,  he  took  care  most  to  excite  their  suspicions 
where  there  was  the  smallest  danger  of  their  being  rewarded 
with  success.  Through  this  fiery  ordeal  one  passed  after 
another,  until  most  of  the  nameless  vagabonds  had  been 
found  innocent,  and  the  throng  around  the  gate  was  so  far 
lessened  as  to  allow  a  freer  circulation  in  the  thoroughfare. 
The  opening  permitted  the  venerable  noble,  who  has  already 
been  presented  to  the  reader,  to  advance  to  the  gate,  ac¬ 
companied  by  the  female,  and  closely  followed  by  the  men¬ 
ials.  The  servitor  of  the  police  saluted  the  stranger  with 
deference,  for  his  calm  exterior  and  imposing  presence  were 
in  singular  contrast  with  the  noisv  declamation  and  rude  de- 
portment  of  the  rabble  that  had  preceded. 

“  I  am  Melchior  de  Willading,  of  Berne,”  said  the  trav¬ 
eller,  quietly  offering  the  proofs  of  what  he  said,  with  the 


16 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ease  of  one  sure  of  his  impunity  ;  “  this  is  my  child  —  my 
only  child  ;  ”  the  old  man  repeated  the  latter  words  with 
melancholy  emphasis  ;  “  and  these,  that  wear  my  livery, 
are  old  and  faithful  followers  of  my  house.  We  go  by  the 
St.  Bernard,  to  change  the  ruder  side  of  our  Alps  for  that 
which  is  more  grateful  to  the  weak  —  to  see  if  there  be  a 
sun  in  Italy  that  hath  warmth  enough  to  revive  this  droop¬ 
ing  flower,  and  to  cause  it  once  more  to  raise  its  head  joy¬ 
ously,  as  until  lately  it  did  ever  in  its  native  halls.” 

The  officer  smiled  and  repeated  his  reverences,  always 
declining  to  receive  the  offered  papers ;  for  the  aged  father 
indulged  the  overflowing  of  his  feelings  in  a  manner  that 
would  have  awakened  even  duller  sympathies. 

“  The  lady  has  youth  and  a  tender  parent  on  her  side,” 
he  said  ;  “  these  are  much  when  health  fails  us.” 

“  She  is  indeed  too  young  to  sink  so  early  !  ”  returned 
the  father,  who  had  apparently  forgotten  his  immediate  busi¬ 
ness,  and  was  gazing  with  a  tearful  eye  at  the  faded  but 
still  eminently  attractive  features  of  the  young  female,  who 
rewarded  his  solicitude  with  a  look  of  love  ;  “  but  thou  hast 
not  seen  I  am  the  man  I  represent  myself  to  be.” 

“  It  is  not  necessary,  noble  baron  ;  the  city  knows  of 
your  presence,  and  I  have  it  in  especial  charge  to  do  all 
that  may  be  grateful  to  render  the  passage  through  Geneva, 
of  one  so  honored  among  our  allies,  agreeable  to  his  recol¬ 
lections.” 

“  Thy  city’s  courtesy  is  of  known  repute,”  said  the  Baron 
de  Willading,  replacing  his  papers  in  their  usual  envelope, 
and  receiving  the  grace  like  one  accustomed  to  honors  of 
this  sort ;  “  art  thou  a  father  ?  ” 

“  Heaven  has  not  been  niggardly  of  gifts  of  this  nature ; 
mv  table  feeds  eleven,  besides  those  who  gave  them  being.” 

“  Eleven !  The  will  of  God  is  a  fearful  mystery  !  And 
this  thou  seest  is  the  sole  hope  of  my  line ;  the  only  heir 
that  is  left  to  the  name  and  lands  of  Willading  ?  Art  thou 
at  ease  in  thy  condition  ?  ” 

“  There  are  those  in  our  town  who  are  less  so,  with  many 
thanks  for  the  friendliness  of  the  question.” 

A  slight  color  suffused  the  face  of  Adelheid  de  Willading, 


THE  HEADSMAN.  17 

for  so  was  the  daughter  of  the  Bernese  called,  and  she  ad¬ 
vanced  a  step  nearer  to  the  officer. 

“  They  who  have  so  few  at  their  own  board,  need  think 
of  those  who  have  so  many,”  she  said,  dropping  a  piece  of 
gold  into  the  hand  of  the  Genevese  ;  then  she  added,  in  a 
voice  scarce  louder  than  a  whisper,  “  If  the  young  and  in¬ 
nocent  of  thy  household  can  offer  a  prayer  in  the  behalf  of 
a  poor  girl  who  has  much  need  of  aid,  ’twill  be  remembered 
of  God,  and  it  may  serve  to  lighten  the  grief  of  one  who 
has  the  dread  of  being  childless.” 

“  God  bless  thee,  lady !  ”  said  the  officer,  little  used  to 
deal  with  such  spirits,  and  touched  by  the  mild  resignation 
and  piety  of  the  speaker,  whose  simple  but  winning  man¬ 
ner  moved  him  nearly  to  tears  ;  “  all  of  my  family,  old  as 
well  as  young,  shall  bethink  them  of  thee  and  thine.” 

Adelheid’s  cheek  resumed  its  paleness,  and  she  quietly 
accompanied  her  father,  as  he  slowly  proceeded  towards  the 
bark.  A  scene  of  this  nature  did  not  fail  to  shake  the  per¬ 
tinacity  of  those  who  stood  at  watch  near  the  gate.  Of 
course  they  had  nothing  to  say  to  any  of  the  rank  of  Mel¬ 
chior  de  Willading,  who  went  into  the  bark  without  a  ques¬ 
tion.  The  influence  of  beauty  and  station,  united  to  so 
much  simple  grace  as  that  shown  by  the  fair  actor  in  the 
little  incident  we  have  just  related,  was  much  too  strong  for 
the  ill-trained  feelings  of  the  Neapolitan  and  his  compan¬ 
ions.  They  not  only  let  all  the  menials  pass  unquestioned 
also,  but  it  was  some  little  time  before  their  vigilance  re¬ 
sumed  its  former  truculence.  The  two  or  three  travellers 
that  succeeded  had  the  benefit  of  this  fortunate  change  of 
disposition. 

The  next  who  came  to  the  gate  was  the  young  soldier, 
whom  the  Baron  de  Willading  had  so  often  addressed  as 
Monsieur  Sigismund.  Ilis  papers  were  regular,  and  no  ob¬ 
stacle  was  offered  to  his  departure.  It  may  be  doubted  how 
far  this  young  man  would  have  been  disposed  to  submit  to 
these  extra-official  inquiries  of  the  three  deputies  of  the 
crowd,  had  there  been  a  desire  to  urge  them,  for  he  went 
towards  the  quay  with  an  eye  that  expressed  any  other  sen¬ 
sation  than  that  of  amity  or  compliance.  Respect,  or  a 

2 


18 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


more  equivocal  feeling,  proved  his  protection ;  for  none  but 
the  pilgrim,  who  displayed  ultra-zeal  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
object,  ventured  so  tar  as  to  hazard  even  a  smothered  re¬ 
mark  as  he  passed. 

“  There  goes  an  arm  and  a  sword  that  might  well 
shorten  a  Christian’s  days,”  said  the  dissolute  and  shameless 
dealer  in  the  Church’s  abuses,  “  and  yet  no  one  asks  his 
name  or  calling  !  ” 

“Thou  hadst  better  put  the  question  thyself,”  returned 
the  sneering  Pippo,  “since  penitence  is  thy  trade.  For 
myself,  I  am  content  with  whirling  round  at  my  own 
bidding,  without  taking  a  hint  from  that  young  giant’s 
arm.” 

The  poor  scholar  and  the  burgher  of  Berne  appeared  to 
acquiesce  in  this  opinion,  and  no  more  was  said  in  the  mat¬ 
ter.  In  the  mean  while  there  was  another  at  the  gate. 
The  new  applicant  had  little  in  his  exterior  to  renew  the 
vigilance  of  the  superstitious  trio.  A  quiet,  meek-looking 
man,  seemingly  of  middle  condition  in  life,  and  of  an  air 
altogether  calm  and  unpretending,  had  submitted  his  pass¬ 
port  to  the  faithful  guardian  of  the  city.  The  latter  read 
the  document,  cast  a  quick  and  inquiring  glance  at  its 
owner,  and  returned  the  paper  in  a  way  to  show  haste,  and 
a  desire  to  be  rid  of  him. 

“  It  is  well,”  he  said ;  “  thou  canst  go  thy  way.” 

“  How  now  !  ”  cried  the  Neapolitan,  to  whom  buffoonery 
was  a  congenial  employment,  as  much  by  natural  disposi¬ 
tion  as  by  practice  ;  “  how  now !  have  we  Balthazar  at 
last,  in  this  bloody-minded  and  fierce-looking  traveller  ?  ” 
As  the  speaker  had  expected,  this  sally  was  rewarded  by  a 
general  laugh,  and  he  was  accordingly  encouraged  to  pro¬ 
ceed.  “  Thou  knowest  our  office,  friend,”  added  the  unfeel¬ 
ing  mountebank,  “  and  must  show  us  thy  hands.  None  pass 
who  bear  the  stain  of  blood  !  ” 

The  traveller  appeared  staggered,  for  he  was  plainly  a 
man  of  retired  and  peaceable  habits,  who  had  been  thrown, 
by  the  chances  of  the  road,  in  contact  with  one  only  too 
practiced  in  this  unfeeling  species  of  wit.  lie  showed  his 
open  palm,  however,  with  a  direct  and  confiding  simplic- 


THE  HEADSMAN.  19 

ity,  that  drew  a  shout  of  merriment  from  all  the  bystand¬ 
ers. 

“  This  will  not  do  ;  soap,  and  ashes,  and  the  tears  of 
victims  may  have  washed  out  the  marks  of  his  work  from 
Balthazar  himself.  The  spots  we  seek  are  on  the  soul, 
man,  and  we  must  look  into  that,  ere  thou  art  permitted 
to  make  one  in  this  goodly  company.” 

“  Thou  didst  not  question  yonder  young  soldier  thus,” 
returned  the  stranger,  whose  eye  kindled,  as  even  the  meek 
repel  unprovoked  outrage,  though  his  frame  trembled  vio¬ 
lently  at  being  subject  to  open  insults  from  men  so  rude 
and  unprincipled  ;  “  thou  didst  not  dare  to  question  yonder 
young  soldier  thus  !  ” 

“  By  the  prayers  of  San  Gennaro  !  which  are  known  to 
stop  running  and  melted  lava,  I  would  rather  thou  shouldst 
undertake  that  office  than  I.  Yonder  young  soldier  is  an 
honorable  decapitator,  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  be  his  com¬ 
panion  on  a  journey  ;  for,  no  doubt,  some  six  or  eight  of 
the  saints  are  speaking  in.  his  behalf  daily.  But  he  we 
seek  is  the  outcast  of  all,  good  or  bad,  whether  in  heaven 
or  on  earth,  or  in  that  other  hot  abode  to  which  he  will 
surely  be  sent  when  his  time  shall  come.” 

“  And  yet  he  does  no  more  than  execute  the  law  !  ” 

“  What  is  law  to  opinion,  friend  ?  But  go  thy  way  ; 
none  suspect  thee  to  be  the  redoubtable  enemy  of  our 
heads.  Go  thy  way,  for  Heaven’s  sake,  and  mutter  thy 
prayers  to  be  delivered  from  Balthazar’s  axe.” 

The  countenance  of  the  stranger  worked,  as  if  he  would 
have  answered  ;  then  suddenly  changing  his  purpose,  he 
passed  on,  and  instantly  disappeared  in  the  bark.  The 
monk  of  St.  Bernard  came  next.  Both  the  Augustine 
and  his  dog  were  old  acquaintances  of  the  officer,  who  did 
not  require  any  evidence  of  his  character  or  errand  from 
the  former. 

“We  are  the  protectors  of  life  and  not  its  foes,”  observed 
the  monk,  as,  leaving  the  more  regular  watchman  of  the 
place,  he  drew  near  to  those  whose  claims  to  the  office 
would  have  admitted  of  dispute :  “  we  live  among  the 
snows,  that  Christians  may  not  die  without  the  Church’s 
comfort.” 


20 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Honor,  holy  Augustine,  to  thee  and  thy  office !  ”  said 
the  Neapolitan,  who,  reckless  and  abandoned  as  he  was, 
possessed  that  instinct  of  respect  for  those  who  deny  their 
natures  for  the  good  of  others,  which  is  common  to  all, 
however  tainted  by  cupidity  themselves.  “  Thou  and  thy 
dog,  old  Uberto,  can  freely  pass,  with  our  best  good  wishes 
for  both.” 

There  no  longer  remained  any  to  examine,  and,  after  a 
short  consultation  among  the  more  superstitious  of  the  trav¬ 
ellers,  they  came  to  the  very  natural  opinion  that,  intimi¬ 
dated  by  their  just  remonstrances,  the  offensive  headsman 
had  shrunk,  unperceived,  from  the  crowd,  and  that  they 
were  at  length  happily  relieved  from  his  presence.  The 
annunciation  of  the  welcome  tidings  drew  much  self-felicita- 
tion  from  the  different  members  of  the  motley  company, 
and  all  eagerly  embarked,  for  Baptiste  now  loudly  and  ve¬ 
hemently  declared  that  a  single  moment  of  further  delay 
was  entirely  out  of  the  question. 

“  Of  what  are  you  thinking,  men  !  ”  he  exclaimed  with 
well-acted  heat ;  “  are  the  Leman  winds  liveried  lackeys, 
to  come  and  go  as  may  suit  your  fancies  ;  now  to  blow 
west,  and  now  east,  as  shall  be  most  wanted,  to  help  you 
on  your  journeys  ?  Take  example  of  the  noble  Melchior 
de  Willading,  who  has  long  been  in  his  jdace,  and  pray 
the  saints,  if  you  will,  in  your  several  fashions,  that  this 
fair  western  wind  do  not  quit  us  in  punishment  of  our 
neglect.” 

“  Yonder  come  others,  in  haste  to  be  of  the  party  !  ” 
interrupted  the  cunning  Italian ;  “  loosen  thy  fasts  quickly, 
Master  Baptiste,  or,  by  San  Gennaro !  we  shall  still  be 
detained  !  ” 

The  patron  suddenly  checked  himself,  and  hurried  back 
to  the  gate,  in  order  to  ascertain  what  he  might  expect  from 
this  unlooked-for  turn  of  fortune. 

Two  travellers,  in  the  attire  of  men  familiar  with  the 
road,  accompanied  by  a  menial,  and  followed  by  a  porter 
staggering  under  the  burden  of  their  luggage,  were  fast  ap¬ 
proaching  the  water-gate,  as  if  conscious  the  least  delay 
might  cause  their  being  left.  This  party  was  led  by  one 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


21 


considerably  past  the  meridian  of  life,  and  who  evidently 
was  enabled  to  maintain  his  post  more  by  the  deference  of 
his  companions  than  by  his  physical  force.  A  cloak  was 
thrown  across  one  arm,  while  in  the  hand  of  the  other  he 
carried  the  rapier,  which  all  of  gentle  blood  then  consid¬ 
ered  a  necessary  appendage  of  their  rank. 

“  You  were  near  losing  the  last  bark  that  sails  for  the 
Abbaye  des  Vignerons,  Signori,”  said  the  Genevese,  recog¬ 
nizing  the  country  of  the  strangers  at  a  glance,  “  if,  as  I 
judge  from  your  direction  and  haste,  these  festivities  are  in 
your  minds.” 

“  Such  is  our  aim,”  returned  the  elder  of  the  travellers, 
“  and,  as  thou  sayest,  we  are,  of  a  certainty,  tardy.  A 
hasty  departure  and  bad  roads  have  been  the  cause  —  but 
as  happily  we  are  yet  in  time  to  profit  by  this  bark,  wilt  do 
us  the  favor  to  look  into  our  authority  to  pass  ?  ” 

The  officer  perused  the  offered  document  with  the 
customary  care,  turning  it  from  side  to  side,  as  if  all  were 
not  right,  though  in  a  way  to  show  that  he  regretted  the 
informality. 

“  Signore,  your  pass  is  quite  in  rule  as  touches  Savoy 
and  the  country  of  Nice,  but  it  wants  the  city’s  forms.” 

“By  San  Francesco!  more’s  the  pity.  We  are  honest 
gentlemen  of  Genoa,  hurrying  to  witness  the  revels  at 
Vevey,  of  which  rumor  gives  an  enticing  report,  and  our 
sole  desire  is  to  come  and  go  peaceably.  As  thou  seest,  we 
are  late;  for  hearing  at  the  post,  on  alighting,  that  a  bark 
was  about  to  spread  its  sails  for  the  other  extremity  of  the 
lake,  we  had  no  time  to  consult  all  the  observances  that  thy 
city’s  rules  may  deem  necessary.  So  many  turn  their  faces 
the  same  way,  to  witness  these  ancient  games,  that  we  had 
not  thought  our  quick  passage  through  the  town  of  sufficient 
importance  to  give  thy  authorities  the  trouble  to  look  into 
our  proofs.” 

“  Therein,  Signore,  you  have  judged  amiss.  It  is  my 
sworn  duty  to  stay  all  who  want  the  republic’s  permission 
to  proceed.” 

“  This  is  unfortunate,  to  say  no  more.  Art  thou  the 
patron  of  the  bark,  friend  ?  ” 


22 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  And  her  owner,  Signore,”  answered  Baptiste,  who 
listened  to  the  discourse  with  longings  equal  to  his  doubts. 
“  I  should  be  a  great  deal  too  happy  to  count  such  honor¬ 
able  travellers  among  my  passengers.” 

“  Thou  wilt  then  delay  thy  departure  until  this  gentleman 
shall  see  the  authorities  of  the  town,  and  obtain  the  required 
permission  to  quit  it  ?  Thy  compliance  shall  not  go  unre¬ 
warded.” 

As  the  Genoese  concluded,  he  dropped  into  a  palm  that 
was  well  practiced  in  bribes  a  sequin  of  the  celebrated 
republic  of  which  he  was  a  citizen.  Baptiste  had  long  cul¬ 
tivated  an  aptitude  to  suffer  himself  to  be  influenced  by 
gold,  and  it  was  with  unfeigned  reluctance  that  he  admitted 
the  necessity  of  refusing,  in  this  instance,  to  profit  by  his 
own  good  dispositions.  Still  retaining  the  money,  however, 
for  he  did  not  well  know  how  to  overcome  his  reluctance  to 
part  with  it,  he  answered  in  a  manner  sufficiently  embar¬ 
rassed,  to  show  the  other  that  he  had  at  least  gained  a 
material  advantage  by  his  liberality. 

“  His  excellency  knows  not  what  he  asks,”  said  the 
patron,  fumbling  the  coin  between  a  finger  and  thumb ; 
“  our  Genevese  citizens  love  to  keep  house  till  the  sun  is 
up,  lest  they  should  break  their  necks  by  walking  about  the 
uneven  streets  in  the  dark,  and  it  will  be  two  long  hours 
before  a  single  bureau  will  open  its  windows  in  the  town. 
Besides,  your  man  of  the  police  is  not  like  us  of  the  lake, 
happy  to  get  a  morsel  when  the  weather  and  occasion  per¬ 
mit  ;  but  he  is  a  regular  feeder,  that  must  have  his  grapes 
and  his  wine  before  he  will  use  his  wits  for  the  benefit  of 
his  employers.  The  Winkelried  would  weary  of  doing 
nothing,  with  this  fresh  western  breeze  humming  between 
her  masts,  while  the  poor  gentleman  was  swearing  before 
the  town-house  gate  at  the  laziness  of  the  officers.  I  know 
the  rogues  better  than  your  excellency,  and  would  advise 
some  other  expedient.” 

Baptiste  looked,  with  a  certain  expression,  at  the  guard¬ 
ian  of  the  water-gate,  and  in  a  manner  to  make  his  mean¬ 
ing  sufficiently  clear  to  the  travellers.  The  latter  studied 
the  countenance  of  the  Genevese  a  moment,  and,  better 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


23 


practiced  than  the  patron,  or  a  more  enlightened  judge  of 
character,  he  fortunately  refused  to  commit  himself  by  offer¬ 
ing  to  purchase  the  officer’s  good  will.  If  there  are  too 
many  who  love  to  be  tempted  to  forget  their  trusts,  by  a 
well  managed  venality,  there  are  a  few  who  find  a  greater 
satisfaction  in  being  thought  beyond  its  influence.  The 
watchman  of  the  gate  happened  to  be  one  of  the  latter  class, 
and,  by  one  of  the  many  unaccountable  workings  of  human 
feeling,  the  very  vanity  which  had  induced  him  to  suffer  II 
Maledetto  to  go  through  unquestioned,  rather  than  expose 
his  own  ignorance,  now  led  him  to  wish  he  might  make 
some  return  for  the  stranger’s  good  opinion  of  his  honesty. 

u  Will  you  let  me  look  again  at  the  pass,  Signore  ?  ” 
asked  the  Genevese,  as  if  he  thought  a  sufficient  legal  war¬ 
rantee  for  that  which  he  now  strongly  desired  to  do  might 
yet  be  found  in  the  instrument  itself. 

The  inquiry  was  useless,  unless  it  was  to  show  that  the 
elder  Genoese  was  called  the  Signore  Grimaldi,  and  that 
his  companion  went  by  the  name  of  Marcelli.  Shaking  his 
head  he  returned  the  paper  in  the  manner  of  a  disappointed 
man. 

“  Thou  canst  not  have  read  half  of  what  the  paper  con¬ 
tains,”  said  Baptiste  peevishly  ;  “  your  reading  and  writing 
are  not  such  easy  matters,  that  a  squint  of  the  eye  is  all- 
sufficient.  Look  at  it  again,  and  thou  mayest  yet  find  all 
in  rule.  It  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  Signori  of  their 
rank  would  journey  like  vagabonds,  with  papers  to  be  sus¬ 
pected.” 

“  Nothing  is  wanting  but  our  city  signatures,  without 
which  my  duty  will  let  none  go  by,  that  are  truly  travel¬ 
lers.” 

“This  comes,  Signore,  of  the  accursed  art  of  writing, 
which  is  much  pushed  and  greatly  abused  of  late.  I  have 
heard  the  aged  watermen  of  the  Leman  praise  the  good  old 
time,  when  boxes  and  bales  went  and  came,  and  no  ink 
touched  paper  between  him  that  sent  and  him  that  carried ; 
and  yet  it  has  now  reached  the  pass  that  a  Christian  may 
not  transport  himself  on  his  own  legs  without  calling  on  the 
scriveners  for  permission  1  ” 


24 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“We  lose  the  moment  in  words,  when  it  were  far  better 
to  he  doing,”  returned  the  Signore  Grimaldi.  “  The  pass 
is  luckily  in  the  language  of  the  country,  and  needs  but  a 
glance  to  get  the  approval  of  the  authorities.  Thou  wilt  do 
ivell  to  say  thou  canst  remain  the  time  necessary  to  see 
this  little  done.” 

“  Were  your  excellency  to  offer  me  the  Doge’s  crown  as 
a  bribe,  this  could  not  be.  Our  Leman  winds  will  not  wait 
for  king  or  noble,  bishop  or  priest,  and  duty  to  those  I  have 
in  the  bark  commands  me  to  quit  the  port  as  soon  as  pos¬ 
sible.” 

“  Thou  art  truly  well  charged  with  living  freight 
already,”  said  the  Genoese,  regarding  the  deeply  loaded 
bark  with  a  half  distrustful  eye.  “  I  hope  thou  hast  not 
overdone  thy  vessel’s  powers  in  receiving  so  many  ?  ” 

“  I  could  gladly  reduce  the  number  a  little,  excellent 
Signore,  for  all  that  you  see  piled  among  the  boxes  and 
tubs  are  no  better  than  so  many  knaves,  fit  otdy  to  give 
trouble  and  raise  questions  touching  the  embarkation  of 
those  who  are  willing  to  pay  better  than  themselves.  The 
noble  Swiss  whom  you  see  seated  near  the  stern,  with  his 
daughter  and  people,  the  worthy  Melchior  de  Willading, 
gives  a  more  liberal  reward  for  his  passage  to  Vevey  than 
all  those  nameless  rogues  together.” 

The  Genoese  made  a  hasty  movement  towards  the 
patron,  with  an  earnestness  of  eye  and  air  that  betrayed  a 
sudden  and  singular  interest  in  what  he  heard. 

“  Didst  thou  say  De  Willading  ?  ”  he  exclaimed,  eager  as 
one  of  much  fewer  years  would  have  been  at  the  unexpected 
announcement  of  some  pleasurable  event.  “  Melchior,  too, 
of  that  honorable  name  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  the  same.  None  other  bears  the  title  now, 
for  the  old  line,  they  say,  is  drawing  to  an  end.  I  remember 
this  same  baron,  when  he  was  as  ready  to  launch  his  boat 
into  a  troubled  lake  as  any  in  Switzerland  ”  — 

“  Fortune  hath  truly  favored  me,  good  Marcelli !  ”  inter¬ 
rupted  the  other,  grasping  the  hand  of  his  companion,  with 
strong  feeling.  “  Go  thou  to  the  bark,  Master  Patron,  and 
advise  thy  passenger  that  —  what  shall  we  say  to  Melchior  ? 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


25 


Shall  we  tell  him  at  once  who  waits  him  here,  or  shall  we 
practice  a  little  on  his  failing  memory  ?  By  San  Francesco  ! 
we  will  do  this,  Enrico,  that  we  may  try  his  powers  !  ’Twill 
be  pleasant  to  see  him  wonder  and  guess  —  my  life  on  it, 
however,  that  he  knows  me  at  a  glance.  I  am  truly  little 
changed  for  one  who  hath  seen  so  much.” 

The  Signor  Marcelli  lowered  his  eyes  respectfully  at  this 
opinion  of  his  friend,  but  he  did  not  see  fit  to  discourage  a 
belief  which  was  merely  a  sudden  ebullition,  produced  by 
the  recollection  of  younger  days.  Baptiste  was  instantly 
dispatched  with  a  request  that  the  baron  would  do  a  stranger 
of  rank  the  favor  to  come  to  the  water-gate. 

“  Tell  him  ’tis  a  traveller  disappointed  in  the  wish  to  be 
of  his  company,”  repeated  the  Genoese.  “  That  will  suffice. 
I  know  him  courteous,  and  he  is  not  my  Melchior,  honest 
Marcelli,  if  he  delay  an  instant ;  thou  seest !  he  is  already 
quitting  the  bark,  for  never  did  I  know  him  refuse  an  act 
of  friendliness  —  dear,  dear  Melchior  —  thou  art  the  same 
at  seventy  as  thou  wast  at  thirty  !  ” 

Here  the  agitation  of  the  Genoese  got  the  better  of  him, 
and  he  walked  aside  under  a  sense  of  shame,  lest  he  might 
betray  unmanly  weakness.  In  the  mean  time  the  Baron 
de  Willading  advanced  from  the  water-side,  without  sus¬ 
pecting  that  his  presence  was  required  for  more  than  an 
act  of  simple  courtesy. 

“  Baptiste  tells  me  that  gentlemen  of  Genoa  are  here 
who  are  desirous  of  hastening  to  the  games  of  Vevey,” 
said  the  latter,  raising  his  beaver,  “  and  that  my  presence 
may  be  of  use  in  obtaining  the  pleasure  of  their  company.” 

“  I  will  not  unmask  till  we  are  fairly  and  decently  em¬ 
barked,  Enrico,”  whispered  Signor  Grimaldi ;  “  nay  —  by 
the  mass  !  not  till  we  are  fairly  disembarked  !  The  laugh 
against  him  will  never  be  forgotten.  Signore,”  addressing 
the  Bernese  with  affected  composure,  endeavoring  to  assume 
the  manner  of  a  stranger,  though  his  voice  trembled  with 
eagerness  at  each  syllable,  “  we  are  indeed  of  Genoa,  and 
most  anxious  to  be  of  the  party  in  your  bark  —  but  —  he 
little  suspects  who  speaks  to  him,  Marcelli !  —  but,  Signore, 
there  has  been  some  small  oversight  touching  the  city  sig- 


26 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


natures,  and  we  have  need  of  friendly  assistance  either  to 
pass  the  gate,  or  to  detain  the  bark  umil  the  forms  of  the 
place  shall  have  been  respected.” 

“  Signore,  the  city  of  Geneva  hath  need  to  be  watchful, 
for  it  is  an  exposed  and  weak  state,  and  I  have  little  hope 
that  my  influence  can  cause  this  trusty  watchman  to  dis¬ 
pense  with  his  duty.  Touching  the  bark,  a  small  gratuity 
will  do  much  with  honest  Baptiste,  should  there  not  be  a 
question  of  the  stability  of  the  breeze,  in  which  case  he 
might  be  somewhat  of  a  loser.” 

“  You  say  the  truth,  noble  Melchior,”  put  in  the  patron  ; 
“  were  the  wind  ahead,  or  were  it  two  hours  earlier  in  the 
morning,  the  little  delay  should  not  cost  the  strangers  a 
batz  —  that  is  to  say,  nothing  unreasonable  ;  but  as  it  is,  I 
have  not  twenty  minutes  more  to  lose,  even  were  all  the 
city  magistrates  cloaking  to  be  of  the  party,  in  their  proper 
and  worshipful  persons.” 

“  I  greatly  regret,  Signore,  it  should  be  so,”  resumed  the 
baron,  turning  to  the  applicant  with  the  consideration  of 
one  accustomed  to  season  his  refusals  by  a  gracious  manner  ; 
“  but  these  watermen  have  their  secret  signs,  by  which  it 
would  seem  they  know  the  latest  moment  they  may  with 
prudence  delay.” 

“  By  the  mass !  Marcelli,  I  will  try  him  a  little  —  I 
should  have  known  him  in  a  carnival  dress.  Signor 
Barone,  we  are  but  poor  Italian  gentlemen,  it  is  true,  of 
Genoa.  You  have  heard  of  our  republic,  beyond  ques¬ 
tion  —  the  poor  state  of  Genoa  ?  ” 

“  Though  of  no  great  pretensions  to  letters,  Signore,” 
answered  Melchior,  smiling,  “  I  am  not  quite  ignorant  that 
such  a  state  exists.  You  could  not  have  named  a  city  on 
the  shores  of  your  Mediterranean  that  would  sooner  warm 
my  heart  than  this  very  town  of  which  you  speak.  Many 
of  my  happiest  hours  were  passed  within  its  walls,  and 
often,  even  at  this  late  day,  do  I  live  over  again  my  life  to 
recall  the  pleasures  of  that  merry  period.  Were  there 
leisure  I  could  repeat  a  list  of  honorable  and  much  esteemed 
names  that  are  familiar  to  your  ears,  in  proof  of  what  I 


THE  HEADSMAN.  27 

“  Name  them,  Signor  Barone  ;  for  the  love  of  the  saints 
and  the  blessed  Virgin,  name  them,  I  beseech  you  !  ” 

A  little  amazed  at  the  eagerness  of.  the  other,  Melchior 
de  Willading  earnestly  regarded  his  furrowed  face  ;  and, 
for  an  instant,  an  expression  like  incertitude  crossed  his 
own  features. 

“  Nothing  would  be  easier,  Signore,  than  to  name  many. 
The  first  in  my  memory,  as  he  has  always  been  the  first  in 
my  love,  is  Gaetano  Grimaldi,  of  whom,  I  doubt  not,  both 
of  you  have  often  heard  ?  ” 

“We  have,  we  have  !  That  is  —  yes,  I  think  we  may 
say,  Marcelli,  that  we  have  often  heard  of  him,  and  not  un¬ 
favorably.  Well,  what  of  this  Grimaldi  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  the  desire  to  converse  of  your  noble  townsman 
is  natural,  but  were  I  to  yield  to  my  wishes  to  speak  of 
Gaetano,  I  fear  the  honest  Baptiste  might  have  reason  to 
complain.” 

“  To  the  devil  with  Baptiste  and  his  bark  !  Melchior, 
—  my  good  Melchior  !  dearest,  dearest  Melchior  !  hast  thou 
indeed  forgotten  me  ?  ” 

Here  the  Genoese  opened  wide  his  arms,  and  stood  ready 
to  receive  the  embrace  of  his  friend.  The  Baron  de  Willa¬ 
ding  was  troubled,  but  he  was  still  so  far  from  suspecting 
the  real  fact,  that  he  could  not  have  easily  told  the  reason 
why.  He  gazed  wistfully  at  the  working  features  of  the 
fine  old  man  who  stood  before  him,  and  though  memory 
seemed  to  flit  around  the  truth,  it  was  in  gleams  so  tran¬ 
sient  as  completely  to  baffle  his  wishes. 

“  Dost  thou  deny  me,  De  Willading  ?  dost  thou  refuse 
to  own  the  friend  of  thy  youth  —  the  companion  of  thy 
pleasures  —  the  sharer  of  thy  sorrows  —  thy  comrade  in 
the  wars  ;  nay,  more,  thy  confidant  in  a  dearer  tie  ?  ” 

“  None  but  Gaetano  Grimaldi  himself  can  claim  these 
titles  !  ”  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  trembling  baron. 

“  Am  I  aught  else  ?  am  I  not  this  Gaetano  ?  that  Gae¬ 
tano  —  thy  Gaetano,  —  old  and  very  dear  friend  ?  ” 

“  Thou  Gaetano  !  ”  exclaimed  the  Bernois,  recoiling  a 
step,  instead  of  advancing  to  meet  the  eager  embrace  of  the 
Genoese,  whose  impetuous  feelings  were  little  cooled  by 


28 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


J 

time,  “  thou,  the  gallant,  active,  daring,  blooming  Grimaldi ! 
Signore,  you  trifle  with  an  old  man’s  affections.” 

“  By  the  holy  mass,  X  do  not  deceive  thee  !  Ha,  Mar- 
celli,  he  is  slow  to  believe  as  ever,  but  fast  and  certain  as 
the  vow  of  a  churchman  when  convinced.  If  we  are  to 
distrust  each  other  for  a  few  wrinkles,  thou  wilt  And  ob¬ 
jections  rising  against  thine  own  identity  as  well  as  against 
mine,  friend  Melchior.  I  am  none  other  than  Gaetano  — 
the  Gaetano  of  thy  youth  —  the  friend  thou  hast  not  seen 
these  many  long  and  weary  years.” 

Recognition  was  slow  in  making  its  way  in  the  mind  of 
the  Bernese.  Lineament  after  lineament,  however,  became 
successively  known  to  him,  and  most  of  all,  the  voice  served 
to  awaken  long  dormant  recollections.  But  as  heavy  na¬ 
tures  are  said  to  have  the  least  self-command  when  fairly 
excited,  so  did  the  baron  betray  the  most  ungovernable 
emotion  of  the  two,  when  conviction  came  at  last  to  confirm 
the  words  of  his  friend.  He  threw  himself  on  the  neck  of 
the  Genoese,  and  the  old  man  wept  in  a  manner  that  caused 
him  to  withdraw  aside,  in  order  to  conceal  the  tears  which 
had  so  suddenly  and  profusely  broken  from  fountains  that 
he  had  long  thought  nearly  dried. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


29 


CHAPTER  III 

Ha,  cousin  Silence,  that  thou  hadst  seen 
That,  that  this  knight  and  I  have  seen . 

King  Henry  IV. 

The  calculating  patron  of  the  Winkelried  had  patiently 
watched  the  progress  of  the  foregoing  scene  with  great  in¬ 
ward  satisfaction,  but  now  that  the  strangers  seemed  to  be 
assured  of  support  powerful  as  that  of  Melchior  de  Wil- 
lading,  he  was  disposed  to  turn  it  to  account  without  further 
delay.  The  old  men  were  still  standing  with  their  hands 
grasping  each  other,  after  another  warm  and  still  closer 
embrace,  and  with  tears  rolling  down  the  furrowed  face 
of  each,  when  Baptiste  advanced  to  put  in  his  raven-like 
remonstrance. 

“  Noble  gentlemen,”  he  said,  “  if  the  felicitations  of  one 
humble  as  I  can  add  to  the  pleasure  of  this  happy  meeting, 
I  beg  you  to  accept  them  ;  but  the  wind  has  no  heart  for 
friendships  nor  any  thought  for  the  gains  or  losses  of  us 
waterman.  I  feel  it  my  duty,  as  patron  of  the  bark,  to 
recall  to  your  honors  that  many  poor  travellers,  far  from 
their  homes  and  pining  families,  are  waiting  our  leisure, 
not  to  speak  of  foot-sore  pilgrims  and  other  worthy  adven¬ 
turers,  who  are  impatient  in  their  hearts,  though  respect  for 
their  superiors  keeps  them  tongue-tied,  while  we  are  losing 
the  best  of  the  breeze.” 

“  By  San  F rancesco  !  the  varlet  is  right,”  said  the 
Genoese,  hurriedly  erasing  the  marks  of  his  recent  weak¬ 
ness  from  his  cheeks.  “  We  are  forgetful  of  all  these 

O 

worthy  people,  while  joy  at  our  meeting  is  so  strong,  and  it 
is  time  that  we  thought  of  others.  Canst  thou  aid  me  in 
dispensing  with  the  city’s  signatures  ?  ” 

The  Baron  de  Willading  paused  ;  for  well  disposed  at 
first  to  assist  any  gentlemen  who  found  themselves  in  an 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


unpleasant  embarrassment,  it  will  be  readily  Imagined  that 
the  case  lost  none  of  its  interest,  when  he  found  that  his 
oldest  and  most  tried  friend  was  the  party  in  want  of  his 
influence.  Still  it  was  much  easier  to  admit  the  force  of 
this  new  and  unexpected  appeal,  than  to  devise  the  means 
of  success.  The  officer  was,  to  use  a  phrase  which  most 
men  seem  to  think  supplies  a  substitute  for  reason  and 
principle,  too  openly  committed  to  render  it  probable  he 
would  easily  yield.  It  was  necessary,  however,  to  make 
the  trial,  and  the  baron,  therefore,  addressed  the  keeper  of 
the  water-gate  more  urgently  than  he  had  yet  done  in  be¬ 
half  of  the  strangers. 

“  It  is  beyond  my  functions  ;  there  is  not  one  of  our 
Syndics  whom  I  would  more  gladly  oblige  than  yourself, 
noble  baron,”  answered  the  officer  ;  “  but  the  duty  of  the 
watchman  is  to  adhere  strictly  to  the  commands  of  those 
who  have  placed  him  at  his  post.” 

“  Gaetano,  we  are  not  the  men  to  complain  of  this ! 
We  have  stood  together  too  long  in  the  same  trench,  and 
have  too  often  slept  soundly,  in  situations  where  failure  in 
this  doctrine  might  have  cost  us  our  lives,  to  quarrel  with 
the  honest  Genevese  for  his  watchfulness.  To  be  frank, 
’twere  little  use  to  tamper  with  the  fidelity  of  a  Swiss  or 
with  that  of  his  ally.” 

“With  the  Swiss  that  is  well  paid  to  be  vigilant!”  an¬ 
swered  the  Genoese,  laughing  in  a  way  to  show  that  he 
had  only  revived  one  of  those  standing  but  biting  jests, 
that  they  who  love  each  other  best  are,  perhaps,  most  ac¬ 
customed  to  practice. 

The  Baron  de  Willading  took  the  facetiousness  of  his 
friend  in  good  part,  returning  the  mirth  of  the  other  in  a 
manner  to  show  that  the  allusion  recalled  days  when  their 
hours  had  idly  passed  in  the  indulgence  of  spontaneous  out- 
breakings  of  animal  spirits. 

“Were  this  thy  Italy,  Gaetano,  a  sequin  would  not  only 
supply  the  place  of  a  dozen  signatures,  but,  by  the  name 
of  thy  favorite,  San  Francesco,  it  would  give  the  honest 
gate-keeper  that  gift  of  second-sight,  on  which  the  Scottish 
seers  are  said  to  pride  themselves.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


31 


“  Well,  the  two  sides  of  the  Alps  will  keep  their  charac¬ 
ters,  even  though  we  quarrel  about  their  virtues  ;  but  we 
shall  never  see  again  the  days  that  we  have  known ! 
Neither  the  games  of  Vevey,  nor  the  use  of  old  jokes, 
will  make  us  the  youths  we  have  been,  dear  De  Willa- 
ding  !  ” 

“  Signore,  a  million  of  pardons,”  interrupted  Baptiste, 
“  but  this  western  wind  is  more  inconstant  even  than  the 
spirits  of  the  young.” 

u  The  rogue  is  again  right,  and  we  forget  yonder  cargo 
of  honest  travellers  who  are  wishing  us  both  in  Abra- 
ham’s  bosom,  for  keeping  the  impatient  bark  in  idleness  at 
the  quay.  Good  Marcelli,  hast  thou  aught  to  suggest  in 
this  strait  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  you  forget  that  we  have  another  document 
that  may  be  found  sufficient,”  the  person  questioned,  who 
appeared  to  fill  a  middle  station  between  that  of  a  ser¬ 
vant  and  that  of  a  companion,  rather  hinted  than  ob¬ 
served. 

“  Thou  sayest  true  —  and  yet  I  would  gladly  avoid  pro¬ 
ducing  it ;  but  anything  is  better  than  the  loss  of  thy  com¬ 
pany,  Melchior.” 

u  Name  it  not !  We  shall  not  separate,  though  the  Win- 
kelried  rot  where  she  lies.  ’Twere  easier  to  separate  our 
faithful  cantons  than  two  such  friends.” 

“  Nay,  noble  baron,  you  forget  the  wearied  pilgrims  and 
the  many  anxious  travellers  in  the  bark.” 

“  If  twenty  crowns  will  purchase  thy  consent,  honest 
Baptiste,  we  will  have  no  further  discussion.” 

“  It  is  scarce  in  human  will  to  withstand  you,  noble  sir  ! 
Well,  the  pilgrims  have  weary  feet,  and  rest  will  only  fit 
them  the  better  for  the  passage  of  the  mountains ;  and  as 
for  the  others,  why,  let  them  quit  the  bark,  if  they  dislike 
the  conditions.  I  am  not  a  man  to  force  my  commerce  on 
any.” 

“  Nay,  nay,  I  will  have  none  of  this.  Keep  thy  gold, 
Melchior,  and  let  the  honest  Baptiste  keep  his  passengers, 
to  say  nothing  of  his  conscience.” 

“  I  beseech  your  excellency,”  interrupted  Baptiste,  “  not 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


on 

to  distress  yourself  in  tenderness  for  me.  I  am  ready 
to  do  far  more  disagreeable  tilings  to  oblige  so  noble  a  gen¬ 
tleman.” 

“  I  will  none  of  it !  Signor  Officer,  wilt  thou  do  me  the 
favor  to  cast  a  glance  at  this  ?  ” 

As  the  Genoese  concluded,  he  placed  in  the  hands  of  the 
watchman  at  the  gate,  a  paper  different  from  that  which  he 
had  first  shown.  The  officer  perused  the  new  instrument 
with  deep  attention,  and,  when  half  through  its  contents, 
his  eyes  left  the  page  to  become  riveted  in  respectful  atten¬ 
tion  on  the  face  of  the  expectant  Italian.  He  then  read 
the  passport  to  the  end.  Raising  his  cap  ceremoniously, 
the  keeper  of  the  gate  left  the  passage  free,  bowing  with 
deep  deference  to  the  strangers. 

“  Had  I  sooner  known  this,”  he  said,  “  there  would  have 
been  no  delay.  I  hope  your  excellency  will  consider  my 
ignorance  ?  ” 

“  Name  it  not,  friend.  Thou  hast  done  well ;  in  proof 
of  which  I  beg  thy  acceptance  of  a  small  token  of  es¬ 
teem.” 

The  Genoese  dropped  a  sequin  into  the  hand  of  the  offi¬ 
cer,  passing  him,  at  the  same  time,  on  his  way  to  the  water¬ 
side.  As  the  reluctance  of  the  other  to  receive  gold 
came  rather  from  a  love  of  duty  than  from  any  particular 
aversion  to  the  metal  itself,  his  second  offering  met  with  a 
more  favorable  reception  than  the  first.  The  Baron  de 
Willading  was  not  without  surprise  at  the  sudden  success 
of  his  friend,  though  he  was  far  too  prudent  and  well-bred 
to  let  his  wonder  be  seen. 

Every  obstacle  to  the  departure  of  the  Winkelried  was 
now  removed,  and  Baptiste  and  his  crew  were  soon  actively 
engaged  in  loosening  the  sails  and  in  casting  off  the  fasts. 
The  movement  of  the  bark  was  at  first  slow  and  heavy,  for 
the  wind  was  intercepted  by  the  buildings  of  the  town ; 
but,  as  she  receded  from  the  shore,  the  canvas  began  to  flap 
and  belly,  and  ere  long  it  filled  outward  with  a  report  like 
that  of  a  musket ;  after  which  the  motion  of  the  travellers 
began  to  bear  some  relation  to  their  nearly  exhausted  pa¬ 
tience. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


33 


Soon  after  the  party  which  had  been  so  long  detained  at 
the  water-gate  were  embarked,  Adelheid  first  learned  the 
reason  of  the  delay.  She  had  long  known,  from  the  mouth 
of  her  father,  the  name  and  early  history  of  the  Signor 
Grimaldi,  a  Genoese  of  illustrious  family,  who  had  been 
the  sworn  friend  and  the  comrade  of  Melchior  de  Wil la¬ 
ding,  when  the  latter  pursued  his  career  in  arms  in  the  wars 
of  Italy.  These  circumstances  having  passed  long  before  her 
own  birth,  and  even  before  the  marriage  of  her  parents, 
and  she  being  the  youngest  and  the  only  survivor  of  a  nu¬ 
merous  family  of  children,  they  were,  as  respected  herself, 
events  that  already  began  to  assume  the  hue  of  history. 
She  received  the  old  man  frankly  and  even  with  affection, 
though  in  his  yielding  but  still  fine  form,  she  had  quite  as 
much  difficulty  as  her  father  in  recognizing  the  young,  gay, 
gallant,  brilliant,  and  handsome  Gaetano  Grimaldi  that  her 
imagination  had  conceived  from  the  verbal  descriptions  she 
had  so  often  heard,  and  whom  her  fancy  was  still  wont  to 
draw  as  he  was  painted  in  the  affectionate  descriptions  of 
her  father.  When  he  suddenly  and  affectionately  offered 
a  kiss,  the  color  flushed  her  face,  for  no  man  but  he  to 
whom  she  owed  her  being  had  ever  before  taken  that  lib¬ 
erty  ;  but,  after  an  instant  of  virgin  embarrassment,  she 
laughed,  and  blushingly  presented  her  cheek  to  receive  the 
salute. 

“  The  last  tidings  I  had  of  thee,  Melchior,”  said  the 
Italian,  “  was  the  letter  sent  by  the  Swiss  ambassador, 
who  took  our  city  in  his  way  as  he  travelled  south,  and 
which  was  written  on  the  occasion  of  the  birth  of  this  very 

girl” 

“  Not  of  this,  dear  friend,  but  of  an  elder  sister,  who  is 
long  since  a  cherub  in  heaven.  Thou  seest  the  ninth 
precious  gift  that  God  bestowed,  and  thou  seest  all  that  is 
now  left  of  his  bounty.” 

The  countenance  of  the  Signor  Grimaldi  lost  its  joyous¬ 
ness,  and  a  deep  pause  in  the  discourse  succeeded.  They 
lived  in  an  a  ire  when  communications  between  friends  that 
were  separated  by  distance,  and  by  the  frontiers  of  differ¬ 
ent  states,  were  rare  and  uncertain.  The  fresh  and  novel 

3 


84 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


affections  of  marriage  had  first  broken  an  intercourse  that 
was  continued,  under  such  disadvantages  as  marked  the 
period,  long  after  their  duties  called  them  different  ways  ; 
and  time,  with  its  changes,  and  the  embarrassments  of  wars, 
had  finally  destroyed  nearly  every  link  in  the  chain  of  their 
correspondence.  Each  had,  therefore,  much  of  a  near  and 
interesting  character  to  communicate  to  the  other,  and  each 
dreaded  to  speak,  lest  he  might  cause  some  wound,  that  was 
not  perfectly  healed,  to  bleed  anew.  The  volume  of  mat¬ 
ter  conveyed  in  the  few  words  uttered  by  the  Baron  de 
Willading,  showed  both  in  how  many  ways  they  might  inflict 
pain  without  intention,  and  how  necessary  it  was  to  be 
guarded  in  their  discourse  during  the  first  days  of  their  re¬ 
newed  intercourse. 

“  This  girl  at  least  is  a  treasure  of  itself,  of  which  I 
must  envy  thee  the  possession,”  the  Signor  Grimaldi  at 
length  rejoined. 

The  Swiss  made  one  of  those  quick  movements  which 
betray  surprise,  and  it  was  very  apparent,  that,  just  at 
the  moment,  he  was  more  affected  by  some  interest  of  his 
friend,  than  by  the  apprehensions  which  usually  beset  him 
when  any  very  direct  allusion  was  made  to  his  surviving 
child. 

“  Gaetano,  thou  hast  a  son  ?  ” 

“  He  is  lost  —  hopelessly  —  irretrievably  lost  —  at  least, 
to  me  !  ” 

These  were  brief  but  painful  glimpses  into  each  other’s 
concerns,  and  another  melancholy  and  embarrassed  pause 
followed.  As  the  Baron  de  Willading  witnessed  the  sor- 
row  that  deeply  shadowed  the  face  of  the  Genoese,  he 
almost  felt  that  Providence,  in  summoning  his  own  boys 
to  early  graves,  might  have  spared  him  the  still  bitterer 
grief  of  mourning  over  the  unworthiness  of  a  living  son. 

“  These  are  God’s  decrees,  Melchior,”  the  Italian  con¬ 
tinued  of  his  own  accord,  “  and  we,  as  soldiers,  as  men, 
and  more  than  either,  as  Christians,  should  know  how  to 
submit.  The  letter,  of  which  I  spoke,  contained  the  last 
direct  tidings  that  I  received  of  thy  welfare,  though  differ¬ 
ent  travellers  have  mentioned  thee  as  among  the  honored 


THE  HEADSMAN.  35 

and  trusted  of  thy  country,  without  descending  to  the  par¬ 
ticulars  of  thy  private  life.” 

“  The  retirement  of  our  mountains,  and  the  little  inter¬ 
course  of  strangers  with  the  Swiss,  have  denied  me  even 
this  meagre  satisfaction  as  respects  thee  and  thy  fortunes. 
Since  the  especial  courier  sent,  according  to  our  ancient 
agreement,  to  announce  ”  — 

The  baron  hesitated,  for  he  felt  he  was  again  touching 
on  forbidden  ground. 

“  To  announce  the  birth  of  my  unhappy  boy,”  continued 
the  Signor  Grimaldi,  firmly. 

“  To  announce  that  much-wished-for  event,  I  have  not 
had  news  of  thee,  except  in  a  way  so  vague,  as  to  whet  the 
desire  to  know  more,  rather  than  to  appease  the  longings 
of  love.” 

u  These  doubts  are  the  penalties  that  friendship  pays  to 
separation.  We  enlist  the  affections  in  youth  with  the 
recklessness  of  hope,  and,  when  called  different  ways  by 
duties  or  interest,  we  first  begin  to  perceive  that  the  world 
is  not  the  heaven  we  thought  it,  but  that  each  enjoyment 
has  its  price,  as  each  grief  has  its  solace.  Thou  hast  car¬ 
ried  arms  since  we  were  soldiers  in  company  ?  ” 

“  As  a  Swiss  only.” 

The  answer  drew  a  gleam  of  habitual  humor  from  the 
keen  eye  of  the  Italian,  whose  countenance  was  apt  to 
change  as  rapidly  as  his  thoughts. 

“  In  what  service  ?  ” 

“  Nay,  a  truce  to  thy  old  pleasantries,  good  Grimaldi  — 
and  yet  I  should  scarce  love  thee  as  I  do,  wert  thou  other 
than  thou  art !  I  believe  we  come  at  last  to  prize  even 
the  foibles  of  those  we  truly  esteem  !  ” 

“  It  must  be  so,  young  lady,  or  boyish  follies  would  long 
since  have  weaned  thy  father  from  me.  I  have  never 
spared  him  on  the  subjects  of  snows  and  money,  and  yet  he 
beareth  with  me  marvelously.  Well,  strong  love  endure th 
much.  Hath  the  baron  often  spoken  to  thee  of  old  Gri¬ 
maldi  —  young  Grimaldi,  I  should  say  —  and  of  the  many 
freaks  of  our  thoughtless  days  ?  ” 

“  So  much,  Signore,”  returned  Adelheid,  who  had  wspt 


86 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


and  smiled  by  turns  during  the  interrupted  dialogue  of  her 
father  and  his  friend,  “  that  I  can  repeat  most  of  your 
youthful  histories.  The  castle  of  Willading  is  deep  among 
the  mountains,  and  it  is  rare  indeed  for  the  foot  of  stranger 
to  enter  its  gates.  During  the  long  evenings  of  our  severe 
winters,  I  have  listened  as  a  daughter  would  be  apt  to  lis¬ 
ten,  to  the  recital  of  most  of  your  common  adventures,  and 
in  listening,  I  have  not  only  learned  to  know,  but  to  esteem, 
one  that  is  justly  so  dear  to  my  parent.” 

“  I  make  no  doubt,  now,  thou  hast  the  history  of  the 
plunge  into  the  canal,  by  over-stooping  to  see  the  Venetian 
beauty,  at  thy  fingers’  ends  ?  ” 

“  I  do  remember  some  such  act  of  humid  gallantry,”  re¬ 
turned  Adelheid,  laughing. 

“  Did  thy  father  tell  thee,  child,  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  bore  me  off  in  a  noble  rescue  from  a  deadly  charge  of 
the  Imperial  cavalry  ?  ” 

“  I  have  heard  some  light  allusion  to  such  an  event,  too,” 
returned  Adelheid,  evidently  trying  to  recall  the  history  of 
the  affair  to  her  mind,  “  but  ”  — 

“  Light  does  he  call  it,  and  of  small  account  ?  I  wish 
never  to  see  another  as  heavy !  This  is  the  impartiality 
of  thy  narratives,  good  Melchior,  in  which  a  life  pre¬ 
served,  wounds  received,  and  a  charge  to  make  the  German 
quail,  are  set  down  as  matters  to  be  touched  with  a  light 
hand  !  ” 

“  If  I  did  thee  this  service,  it  was  more  than  deserved  by 
the  manner  in  which,  before  Milan  ”  — 

“  Well,  let  it  all  pass  together.  We  are  old  fools,  young 
lady,  and  should  we  get  garrulous  in  each  other’s  praise, 
thou  mightest  mistake  us  for  braggarts ;  a  character  that, 
in  truth,  neither  wholly  merits.  Didst  thou  ever  tell  the 
girl,  Melchior,  of  our  mad  excursion  into  the  forests  of  the 
Apennines,  in  search  of  a  Spanish  lady  that  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  banditti ;  and  how  we  passed  weeks  on  a 
foolish  enterprise  of  errantry,  that  had  become  useless  by 
the  timely  application  of  a  few  sequins  on  the  part  of  the 
husband,  even  before  we  started  on  the  chivalrous,  not  to 
say  silly,  excursion  ?  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


87 


“  Say  chivalrous,  but  not  silly,”  answered  Adelheid,  with 
the  simplicity  of  a  young  and  sincere  mind.  “  Of  this  ad¬ 
venture  I  have  heard  ;  but  to  me  it  has  never  seemed  ridic¬ 
ulous.  A  generous  motive  might  well  excuse  an  undertak¬ 
ing  of  less  favorable  auspices.” 

“  ’Tis  fortunate,”  returned  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  thought- 
fully,  “  that,  if  youth  and  exaggerated  opinions  lead  us  to 
commit  mad  pranks  under  the  name  of  spirit  and  generos¬ 
ity,  there  are  other  youthful  and  generous  minds  to  reflect 
our  sentiments  and  to  smile  upon  our  folly.” 

“  This  is  more  like  the  wary,  gray-headed  expounder  of 
wisdom  than  the  hot-headed  Gaetano  Grimaldi  of  old  !  ” 
exclaimed  the  baron,  though  he  laughed  while  uttering  the 
words,  as  if  he  felt  at  least  a  portion  of  the  other’s  indiffer¬ 
ence  to  those  exaggerated  feelings  that  had  entered  much 
into  the  characters  of  both  in  youth.  “  The  time  has  been 
when  the  words  policy  and  calculation  would  have  cost  a 
companion  thy  favor  !  ” 

“  ’Tis  said  that  the  prodigal  of  twenty  makes  the  miser 
of  seventy.  It  is  certain  that  even  our  southern  sun  does 
not  warm  the  blood  of  three  score  as  suddenly  as  it  heats 
that  of  one.  But  we  will  not  darken  thy  daughter’s  views 
of  the  future  by  a  picture  too  faithfully  drawn,  lest  she  be¬ 
come  wise  before  her  time.  I  have  often  questioned,  Mel¬ 
chior,  which  is  the  most  precious  gift  of  nature  —  a  warm 
fancy,  or  the  colder  powers  of  reason.  But  if  I  must  say 
which  I  most  love,  the  point  becomes  less  difficult  of  decis¬ 
ion.  I  would  prefer  each  in  its  season,  or  rather  the  two 
united,  with  a  gradual  change  in  their  influence.  Let  the 
youth  commence  with  the  first  in  the  ascendant,  and  close 
with  the  last.  He  who  begins  life  too  cold  a  reasoner  may 
end  it  a  calculating  egotist  ;  and  he  who  is  ruled  solely  by 
his  imagination  is  in  danger  of  having  his  mind  so  ripened 
as  to  bring  forth  the  fruits  of  a  visionary.  Had  it  pleased 
Heaven  to  have  left  me  the  dear  son  I  possessed  for  so 
short  a  period,  I  would  rather  have  seen  him  leaning  to  the 
side  of  exaggeration  in  his  estimate  of  men  before  expe¬ 
rience  came  to  chill  his  hopes,  than  to  see  him  scan  his  fel¬ 
lows  with  a  too  philosophical  eye  in  boyhood.  ’Tis  said  we 


38 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


are  but  clay  at  the  best ;  but  the  ground,  before  it  has  been 
well  tilled,  sends  forth  the  plants  that  are  most  congenial  to 
its  soil,  and  though  it  be  of  no  great  value,  give  me  the 
spontaneous  and  generous  growth  of  the  weed,  which 
proves  the  depth  of  the  loam,  rather  than  a  stinted  imita¬ 
tion  of  that  which  cultivation  may,  no  doubt,  render  more 
useful  if  not  more  grateful.” 

The  allusion  to  his  lost  son  caused  another  cloud  to  pass 
athwart  the  brow  of  the  Genoese. 

“  Thou  seest,  Adelheid,”  he  continued,  after  a  pause,  — 
“  for  Adelheid  will  I  call  thee,  in  virtue  of  a  second  father’s 
rights  —  that  we  are .  making  our  folly  respectable,  at  least 
to  ourselves.  Master  Patron,  thou  hast  a  well-charged 
bark !  ” 

“  Thanks  to  your  two  honors,”  answered  Baptiste,  who 
stood  at  the  helm,  near  the  group  of  principal  passengers. 
“  These  windfalls  come  rarely  to  the  poor,  and  we  must 
make  much  of  such  an  offer.  The  games  at  Vevey  have 
called  every  craft  on  the  Leman  to  the  upper  end  of  the 
lake,  and  a  little  mother-wit  led  me  to  trust  to  the  last  turn 
of  the  wheel,  which,  as  you  see,  Signore,  has  not  come  up  a 
blank.” 

“  Have  many  strangers  passed  by  your  city  on  their  way 
to  these  sports  ?  ” 

“  Many  hundreds,  noble  gentleman  ;  and  report  speaks  of 
thousands  that  are  collecting  at  Vevey  and  in  the  neighbor¬ 
ing  villages.  The  country  of  Vaud  has  not  had  a  richer 
harvest  from  her  games  this  many  a  year.” 

“  It  is  fortunate,  Melchior,  that  the  desire  to  witness  these 
revels  should  have  arisen  in  us  at  the  same  moment.  The 
hope  of  at  last  obtaining  certain  tidings  of  thy  welfare  was 
the  chief  inducement  that  caused  me  to  steal  from  Genoa, 
whither  I  am  compelled  to  return  forthwith.  There  is  truly 
something  providential  in  this  meeting  !  ” 

“  I  so  esteem  it,”  returned  the  Baron  de  Willading ; 
“  though  the  hope  of  soon  embracing  thee  was  strongly 
alive  in  me.  Thou  art  mistaken  in  fancying  that  curiosity, 
or  a  wish  to  mingle  with  the  multitude  at  Vevey  has  drawn 
me  from  my  castle.  Italy  was  in  my  eye,  as  it  has  long 
been  in  my  heart.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


39 


“How!  Italy?” 

“  Nothing  less.  This  fragile  plant  of  the  mountains  has 
drooped  of  late  in  her  native  air,  and  skillful  advisers  have 
counseled  the  sunny  side  of  the  Alps  as  a  shelter  to  revive 
her  animation.  I  have  promised  Roger  de  Blonay  to  pass 
a  night  or  two  within  his  ancient  walls,  and  then  we  are 
destined  to  seek  the  hospitality  of  the  monks  of  St.  Bernard. 
Like  thee,  I  had  hoped  this  unusual  sortie  from  my  hold 
might  lead  to  intelligence  touching  the  fortunes  of  one  I 
have  never  ceased  to  love.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  turned  a  more  scrutinizing  look 
towards  the  face  of  their  female  companion.  Her  gentle 
and  winning  beauty  gave  him  pleasure  ;  but,  with  his  atten¬ 
tion  quickened  by  what  had  just  fallen  from  her  father,  he 
traced,  in  silent  pain,  the  signs  of  that  early  fading  which 
threatened  to  include  this  last  hope  of  his  friend  in  the 
common  fate  of  the  family.  Disease  had  not,  however,  set 
its  seal  on  the  sweet  face  of  Adelheid,  in  a  manner  to  attract 
the  notice  of  a  common  observer.  The  lessening  of  the 
bloom,  the  mournful  character  of  a  dove-like  eye,  and  a  look 
of  thoughfulness  on  a  brow  that  he  had  ever  known  devoid 
of  care  and  open  as  day  with  youthful  ingenuousness,  were 
the  symptoms  that  first  gave  the  alarm  to  her  father,  whose 
previous  losses,  and  whose  solitariness,  as  respects  the  ties 
of  the  world,  had  rendered  him  keenly  alive  to  impressions  . 
of  such  a  nature.  The  reflections  excited  by  this  examina¬ 
tion  brought  painful  recollections  to  all,  and  it  was  long  be¬ 
fore  the  discourse  was  renewed. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Winkelried  was  not  idle.  As  the 
vessel  receded  from  the  cover  of  the  buildings  and  the  hills, 
the  force  of  the  breeze  was  felt,  and  her  speed  became 
quickened  in  proportion  ;  though  the  watermen  of  her  crew 
often  studied  the  manner  in  which  she  dragged  her  way 
through  the  element  with  a  shake  of  the  head,  that  was  in¬ 
tended  to  express  their  consciousness  that  too  much  had 
been  required  of  the  craft.  The  cupidity  of  Baptiste  had 
indeed  charged  his  good  bark  to  the  uttermost.  The  water 
was  nearly  on  a  line  with  the  low  stern,  and  when  the  bark 
had  reached  a  part  of  the  lake  where  the  waves  were  rolling 


40 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


with  some  force,  it  was  found  that  the  vast  weight  was  too 
much  to  be  lifted  by  the  feeble  and  broken  efforts  of  these 
miniature  seas.  The  consequences  were,  however,  more 
vexatious  than  alarming.  A  few  wet  feet  among  the  less 
quiet  of  the  passengers,  with  an  occasional  slapping  of  a 
sheet  of  water  against  the  gangways,  and  a  consequent  drift 
of  spray  across  the  pile  of  human  heads  in  the  centre  of  the 
bark,  were  all  the  immediate  personal  inconveniences. 
Still,  unjustifiable  greediness  of  gain  had  tempted  the  patron 
to  commit  the  unseamanlike  fault  of  overloading  his  vessel. 
The  decrease  of  speed  was  another  and  a  graver  consequence 
of  his  cupidity,  since  it  might  prevent  their  arrival  in  port 
before  the  breeze  had  expended  itself. 

The  lake  of  Geneva  lies  nearly  in  the  form  of  a  crescent, 
stretching  from  the  southwest  towards  the  northeast.  Its 
northern,  or  the  Swiss  shore,  is  chiefly  what  is  called,  in 
the  language  of  the  country,  a  cote ,  or  a  declivity  that  ad¬ 
mits  of  cultivation  ;  and,  with  few  exceptions,  it  has  been, 
since  the  earliest  periods  of  history,  planted  with  the  gener¬ 
ous  vine.  Here  the  Romans  had  many  stations  and  posts, 
vestiges  of  which  are  still  visible.  The  confusion  and  the 
mixture  of  interests  that  succeeded  the  fall  of  the  empire, 
gave  rise,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  to  various  baronial  castles, 
ecclesiastical  towns,  and  towers  of  defense,  which  still  stand 
on  the  margin  of  this  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  or  ornament 
the  eminences  a  little  inland.  At  the  time  of  which  we 
write,  the  whole  coast  of  the  Leman,  if  so  imposing  a  word 
may  be  applied  to  the  shores  of  so  small  a  body  of  water, 
was  in  the  possession  of  the  three  several  states  of  Geneva, 
Savoy,  and  Berne.  The  first  consisted  of  a  mere  fragment 
of  territory  at  the  western,  or  lower  horn  of  the  crescent; 
the  second  occupied  nearly  the  whole  of  the  southern  side 
of  the  sheet,  or  the  cavity  of  the  half-moon  ;  while  the 
latter  was  mistress  of  the  whole  of  the  convex  border,  and 
of  the  eastern  horn.  The  shores  of  Savoy  are  composed, 
with  immaterial  exceptions,  of  advanced  spurs  of  the  high 
Alps,  among  which  towers  Mont  Blanc,  like  a  sovereign 
seated  in  majesty  in  the  midst  of  a  brilliant  court,  the  rocks 
frequently  rising  from  the  water’s  edge  in  perpendicular 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


41 


masses.  None  of  the  lakes  of  this  remarkable  region  pos¬ 
sess  a  greater  variety  of  scenery  than  that  of  Geneva, 
which  changes  from  the  smiling  aspect  of  fertility  and  culti¬ 
vation,  at  its  lower  extremity,  to  the  sublimity  of  a  savage 
and  sublime  nature  at  its  upper.  Vevey,  the  haven  for 
which  the  Winkelried  was  bound,  lies  at  the  distance  of 
three  leagues  from  the  head  of  the  lake,  or  the  point  where 
it  receives  the  Rhone  ;  and  Geneva,  the  port  from  which 
the  reader  has  just  seen  her  take  her  departure,  is  divided 
by  that  river  as  it  glances  out  of  the  blue  basin  of  the  Le¬ 
man  again,  to  traverse  the  fertile  fields  of  France,  on  its 
hurried  course  towards  the  distant  Mediterranean. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  currents  of  air,  on  all  bodies  of 
water  that  lie  amid  high  and  broken  mountains,  are  uncer¬ 
tain  both  as  to  their  direction  and  their  force.  This  was 
the  difficulty  which  had  most  disturbed  Baptiste  during  the 
delay  of  the  bark,  for  the  experienced  waterman  well  knew 
it  required  the  first  and  the  freest  effort  of  the  wind  to 
“  drive  the  breeze  home,”  as  it  is  called  by  seamen,  against 
the  opposing  currents  that  frequently  descend  from  the 
mountains  which  surrounded  his  port.  In  addition  to  this 
difficulty,  the  shape  of  the  lake  was  another  reason  why  the 
winds  rarely  blow  in  the  same  direction  over  the  whole  of 
its  surface  at  the  same  time.  Strong  and  continued  gales 
commonly  force  themselves  down  into  the  deep  basin,  and 
push  their  way,  against  all  resistance,  into  every  crevice  of 
the  rocks ;  but  a  power  less  than  this,  rarely  succeeds  in 
favoring  the  bark  with  the  same  breeze,  from  the  entrance 
to  the  outlet  of  the  Rhone. 

As  a  consequence  of  these  peculiarities,  the  passengers  of 
the  Winkelried  had  early  evidence  that  they  had  trifled  too 
long  with  the  fickle  air.  The  breeze  carried  them  up 
abreast  of  Lausanne  in  good  season,  but  here  the  influence 
of  the  mountains  began  to  impair  its  force,  and,  by  the  time 
the  sun  had  a  little  fallen  towards  the  long,  dark,  even  line 
of  the  Jura,  the  good  vessel  was  driven  to  the  usual  expe¬ 
dients  of  jibing  and  hauling-in  of  sheets. 

Baptiste  had  only  to  blame  his  own  cupidity  for  this  dis¬ 
appointment  ;  and  the  consciousness  that,  had  he  complied 


42 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


with  the  engagement  made  on  the  previous  evening  with 
the  mass  of  the  passengers,  to  depart  with  the  dawn,  he 
should  now  have  been  in  a  situation  to  profit  by  any  turn 
of  fortune  that  was  likely  to  arise  from  the  multitude  of 
strangers  who  were  in  Vevey,  rendered  him  moody.  As  is 
usual  with  the  headstrong  and  selfish  when  they  possess  the 
power,  others  were  made  to  pay  for  the  fault  that  he  alone 
committed.  His  men  were  vexed  with  contradictory  and 
useless  orders  ;  the  inferior  passengers  were  accused  of  con¬ 
stant  neglect  of  his  instructions,  a  fault  which  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  affirm  had  caused  the  bark  to  sail  less  swiftly 
than  usual,  and  he  no  longer  even  answered  the  occasional 
questions  of  those  for  whom  he  felt  habitual  deference,  with 
his  former  respect  and  readiness. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


43 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Thrice  to  thine,  and  thrice  to  mine 
And  thi’ice  again,  to  make  up  nine. 

Macbeth. 

Baffling  and  light  airs  kept  the  Winkelried  a  long  time 
nearly  stationary,  and  it  was  only  by  paying  the  greatest 
attention  to  trimming  the  sails  and  to  all  the  little  minutiae 
of  the  waterman’s  art,  that  the  vessel  was  worked  into  the 
eastern  horn  of  the  crescent,  as  the  sun  touched  the  hazy 
line  of  the  Jura.  Here  the  wind  failed  entirely,  the  surface 
of  the  lake  becoming  as  glassy  and  smooth  as  a  mirror, 
and  further  motion,  for  the  time  at  least,  was  quite  out  of 
the  question.  The  crew,  perceiving  the  hopelessness  of 
their  exertions,  and  fatigued  with  the  previous  toil,  threw 
themselves  among  the  boxes  and  bales,  and  endeavored  to 
catch  a  little  sleep,  in  anticipation  of  the  north  breeze,  which, 
at  this  season  of  the  year,  usually  blew  from  the  shores  of 
Vaud  within  an  hour  or  two  of  the  disappearance  of  the 
snn. 

The  deck  of  the  bark  was  now  left  to  the  undisputed  pos¬ 
session  of  her  passengers.  The  day  had  latterly  been  sultry 
for  the  season,  the  even  water  having  cast  back  the  hot  rays 
in  fierce  reflection, ^ind,  as  evening  drew  on,  a  refreshing 
coolness  came  to  relieve  the  densely  packed  and  scorching 
travellers.  The  effect  of  such  a  change  was  like  that  which 
would  have  been  observed  among  a  flock  of  heavily  fleeced 
sheep,  which,  after  gasping  for  breath  beneath  trees  and 
hedges  during  the  time  of  the  sun’s  power,  are  seen  scatter¬ 
ing  over  their  pastures  to  feed,  or  to  play  their  antics,  as  a 
grateful  shade  succeeds  to  cool  their  panting  sides. 

Baptiste,  as  is  but  too  apt  to  be  the  case  with  men  pos¬ 
sessed  of  brief  authority,  during  the  day  had  mercilessly 


44 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


played  the  tyrant  with  all  the  passengers  that  were  beneath 
the  privileged  degrees,  more  than  once  threatening  to  come 
to  extremities  with  several,  who  had  betrayed  restlessness 
under  the  restraint  and  suffering  of  their  unaccustomed  situ¬ 
ation.  Perhaps  there  is  no  man  who  feels  less  for  the  com¬ 
plaints  of  the  novice  than  your  weather-beaten  and  hardened 
mariner  ;  for,  familiarized  to  the  suffering  and  confinement 
of  a  vessel,  and  at  liberty  himself  to  seek  relief  in  his  duties 
and  avocations,  he  can  scarcely  enter  into  the  privations  and 
embarrassments  of  those  to  whom  all  is  so  new  and  painful. 
But,  in  the  patron  of  the  Winkelried,  there  existed  a  natural 
indifference  to  the  grievances  of  others,  and  a  narrow  self¬ 
ishness  of' disposition,  in  aid  of  the  opinions  which  had  been 
formed  by  a  life  of  hardship  and  exposure.  He  considered 
the  vulgar  passenger  as  so  much  troublesome  freight,  which, 
while  it  brought  the  advantage  of  a  higher  remuneration 
than  the  same  cubic  measurement  of  inanimate  matter,  had 
the  unpleasant  drawback  of  volition  and  motion.  With  this 
general  tendency  to  bully  and  intimidate,  the  wary  patron 
had,  however,  made  a  silent  exception  in  favor  of  the  Ital¬ 
ian,  who  has  introduced  himself  to  the  reader  by  the  ill- 
omened  name  of  II  Maledetto,  or  the  accursed.  This  for¬ 
midable  personage  had  enjoyed  a  perfect  immunity  from  the 
effects  of  Baptiste’s  tyranny,  which  he  had  been  able  to 
establish  by  a  very  simple  and  quiet  process.  Instead  of 
cowering  at  the  fierce  glance,  or  recoiling  at  the  rude  remon¬ 
strances  of  the  churlish  patron,  he  had  chosen  his  time, 
when  the  latter  was  in  one  of  his  hottest  ebullitions  of  anger, 
and  when  maledictions  and  menaces  flowed  out  of  his  mouth 
in  torrents,  coolly  to  place  himself  on  fhe  very  spot  that 
the  other  had  proscribed,  where  he  maintained  his  ground 
with  a  quietness  and  composure  which  it  might  have  been 
difficult  to  say  was  more  to  be  imputed  to  extreme  ignorance, 
or  to  immeasurable  contempt.  At  least,  so  reasoned  the 
spectators ;  some  thinking  that  the  stranger  meant  to  bring 
affairs  to  a  speedy  issue  by  braving  the  patron’s  fury,  and 
others  charitably  inferring  that  he  knew  no  better.  But 
thus  did  not  Baptiste  reason  himself.  He  saw  by  the  calm 
eye  and  resolute  demeanor  of  his  passenger  that  he  himself, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


45 


his  pretended  professional  difficulties,  his  captiousness,  and 
his  threats,  were  alike  despised  ;  and  he  shrank  from  collis¬ 
ion  with  such  a  spirit,  precisely  on  the  principle  that  the 
intimidated  among  the  rest  of  the  travellers  shrank  from  a 
contest  with  his  own.  From  this  moment  II  Maledetto,  or, 
as  he  was  called  by  Baptiste  himself,  who  it  would  appear 
had  some  knowledge  of  his  person,  Maso,  became  as  com¬ 
pletely  the  master  of  his  own  movements,  as  if  he  had  been 
one  of  the  more  honored  in  the  stern  of  the  bark,  or  even 
her  patron.  He  did  not  abuse  his  advantage,  however, 
rarely  quitting  the  indicated  station  near  his  own  effects, 
where  he  had  been  mainly  content  to  repose  in  listless  indo¬ 
lence,  like  the  others,  dozing  away  the  minutes. 

But  the  scene  was  now  altogether  changed.  The  instant 
the  wrangling,  discontented,  and  unhappy,  because  disap¬ 
pointed,  patron  confessed  his  inability  to  reach  his  port 
before  the  coming  of  the  expected  night-breeze,  and  threw 
himself  on  a  bale  to  conceal  his  dissatisfaction  in  sleep, 
head  arose  after  head  from  among  the  pile  of  freight,  and 
body  after  body  followed  the  nobler  member,  until  the 
whole  mass  was  alive  with  human  beings.  The  invigorating 
coolness,  the  tranquil  hour,  the  prospect  of  a  safe  if  not  a 
speedy  arrival,  and  the  relief  from  excessive  weariness,  pro¬ 
duced  a  sudden  and  agreeable  reaction  in  the  feelings  of  all. 
Even  the  Baron  de  Willading  and  his  friends,  who  had 
shared  in  none  of  the  especial  privations  just  named,  joined 
in  the  general  exhibition  of  satisfaction  and  good  will,  rather 
aiding  by  their  smiles  and  affability,  than  restraining  by 
their  presence,  the  whims  and  jokes  of  the  different  individ¬ 
uals  among  the  motley  group  of  their  nameless  companions. 

The  aspect  and  position  of  the  bark,  as  well  as  the  pros¬ 
pects  of  those  on  board  as  they  were  connected  with  their 
arrival,  now  deserve  to  be  more  particularly  mentioned. 
The  manner  in  which  the  vessel  was  loaded  to  the  water’s 
edge  ha§  already  been  more  than  once  alluded  to.  The 
whole  of  the  centre  of  the  broad  deck,  a  portion  of  the 
Winkelried  which,  owing  to  the  overhanging  gangways, 
possessed,  in  common  with  all  the  similar  craft  ot  the  Le¬ 
man,  a  greater  width  than  is  usual  in  vessels  of  the  same 


46 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


tonnage  elsewhere,  was  so  cumbered  with  freight  as  barely 
to  leave  a  passage  to  the  crew,  forward  and  aft,  by  stepping 
among  the  boxes  and  bales  that  were  piled  much  higher 
than  their  own  heads.  A  little  vacant  space  was  left  near 
the  stern,  in  which  it  was  possible  for  the  party  who  occu¬ 
pied  that  part  of  the  deck  to  move,  though  in  sufficiently 
straitened  limits,  while  the  huge  tiller  played  in  its  semicir¬ 
cle  behind.  At  the  other  extremity,  as  is  absolutely  neces¬ 
sary  in  all  navigation,  the  forecastle  was  reasonably  clear, 
though  even  this  important  part  of  the  deck  was  bristling 
with  the  flukes  of  no  less  than  nine  anchors  that  lay  in  a 
row  across  its  breadth,  the  wild  roadsteads  of  this  end  of  the 
lake  rendering  such  a  provision  of  ground-tackle  absolutely 
indispensable  to  the  safety  of  every  craft  that  ventured  into 
its  eastern  horn.  The  effect  of  the  whole,  seen  as  it  was  in 
a  state  of  absolute  rest,  was  to  give  to  the  Winkelried  the 
appearance  of  a  small  mound  in  the  midst  of  the  water, 
that  was  crowded  with  human  beings,  and  seemingly  so  in¬ 
corporated  with  the  element  on  which  it  floated  as  to  grow 
out  of  its  bosom  ;  an  image  that  the  fancy  was  not  slow  to 
form,  aided  as  it  was  by  the  reflection  of  the  mass  that  the 
unruffled  lake  threw  back  from  its  mirror-like  face,  as  per¬ 
fectly  formed,  as  unwieldy,  and  nearly  as  distinct  as  the 
original.  To  this  picture  of  a  motionless  rock,  or  island, 
the  spars,  sails,  and  high,  pointed  beak,  however,  formed 
especial  exceptions.  The  yards  hung,  as  seamen  term  it, 
a-cockbill,  or  in  such  negligent  and  picturesque  positions  as 
an  artist  would  most  love  to  draw,  while  the  drapery  of  the 
canvas  was  suspended  in  graceful  and  spotless  festoons,  as  it 
had  fallen  by  chance,  or  been  cast  carelessly  from  the  hands 
of  the  boatmen.  The  beak,  or  prow,  rose  in  its  sharp  gal¬ 
lant  stem,  resembling  the  stately  neck  of  a  swan,  slightly 
swerving  from  its  direction,  or  inclining  in  a  nearly  imper¬ 
ceptible  sweep,  as  the  hull  yielded  to  the  secret  influence  of 
the  varying  currents. 

When  the  teeming  pile  of  freight,  therefore,  began  so 
freely  to  bring  forth,  and  traveller  after  traveller  left  his 
wallet,  there  was  no  great  space  found  in  which  they  could 
stretch  their  wearied  limbs,  or  seek  the  change  they  needed. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


47 


But  suffering  is  a  good  preparative  for  pleasure,  and  there 
is  no  sweetener  of  liberty  like  previous  confinement.  Bap¬ 
tiste  was  no  sooner  heard  to  snore,  than  the  whole  hummock 
of  cargo  was  garnished  with  upright  bodies  and  stretching 
arms  and  legs,  as  mice  are  known  to  steal  from  their  holes 
during  the  slumbers  of  their  mortal  enemy,  the  cat. 

The  reader  has  been  made  sufficiently  acquainted  with 
the  moral  composition  of  the  Winkelried’s  living  freight,  in 
the  opening  chapter.  As  it  had  undergone  no  other  altera¬ 
tion  than  that  produced  by  lassitude,  he  is  already  prepared, 
therefore,  to  renew  his  communications  with  its  different 
members,  all  of  whom  were  well  disposed  to  show  off  in 
their  respective  characters,  the  moment  they  were  favored 
with  an  opportunity.  The  mercurial  Pippo,  as  he  had  been 
the  most  difficult  to  restrain  during  the  day,  was  the  first  to 
steal  from  his  lair,  now  that  the  Argus-like  eyes  of  Baptiste 
permitted  the  freedom,  and  the  exhilarating  coolness  of  the 
sunset  invited  action.  His  success  emboldened  others,  and, 
ere  long,  the  buffoon  had  an  admiring  audience  around  him, 
that  was  well  disposed  to  laugh  at  his  witticisms,  and  to  ap¬ 
plaud  all  his  practical  jokes.  Gaining  courage  as  he  pro¬ 
ceeded,  the  buffoon  gradually  went  from  liberty  to  liberty, 
until  he  was  at  length  triumphantly  established  on  what 
might  be  termed  an  advanced  spur  of  the  mountain  formed 
by  the  tubs  of  Nicklaus  Wagner,  in  the  regular  exercise  of 
his  art ;  while  a  crowd  of  amused  and  gaping  spectators 
blustered  about  him,  peopling  every  eminence  of  the  height, 
and  even  invading  the  more  privileged  deck  in  their  eager¬ 
ness  to  see  and  to  admire. 

Though  frequently  reduced  by  adverse  fortune  to  the  low¬ 
est  shifts  of  his  calling,  such  as  the  liorse-play  of  Policinello, 
and  the  imitation  of  uncouth  sounds,  that  resembled  nothing 
either  in  heaven  or  earth,  Pippo  was  a  clever  knave  in  his 
way,  and  was  quite  equal  to  a  display  of  the  higher  branches 
of  his  art,  whenever  chance  gave  him  an  audience  capable 
of  estimating  his  qualities.  On  the  present  occasion  he 
was  obliged  to  address  himself  both  to  the  polished  and  to 
the  unpolished  ;  for  the  proximity  of  their  position,  as  well 
as  a  good-natured  readiness  to  lend  themselves  to  fooleries 


48 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


that  were  so  agreeable  to  most  around  them,  had  brought 
the  more  gentle  portion  of  the  passengers  within  the  in¬ 
fluence  of  his  wit. 

“And  now,  illustrissimi  Signori,”  continued  the  wily  jug¬ 
gler,  after  having  drawn  a  burst  of  applause  by  one  of  his 
happiest  hits  in  a  sleight-of-hand  exhibition,  “  I  come  to  the 
most  imposing  and  the  most  mysterious  part  of  my  knowl¬ 
edge  —  that  of  looking  into  the  future,  and  of  foretelling 
events.  If  there  are  any  among  you  who  would  wish  to 
know  how  long  they  are  to  eat  the  bread  of  toil,  let  them 
come  to  me  ;  if  there  is  a  youth  that  wishes  to  learn  whether 
the  heart  of  his  mistress  is  made  of  flesh  or  of  stone  —  a 
maiden  that  would  see  into  a  youth’s  f^ith  and  constancy 
while  her  long  eyelashes  cover  her  sight  like  a  modest  silken 
veil  —  or  a  noble,  that  would  fain  have  an  insight  into  the 
movements  of  his  rivals  at  court  or  council,  let  them  all  put 
their  questions  to  Pippo,  who  has  an  answer  ready  for  each, 
and  an  answer  so  real  that  the  most  expert  among  the  lis¬ 
teners  will  be  ready  to  swear  that  a  lie  from  his  mouth  is 
worth  more  than  truth  from  that  of  another  man.” 

“  He  that  would  gain  credit  for  knowledge  of  the  future,” 
gravely  observed  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  who  had  listened  to 
his  countryman’s  voluble  eulogium  on  his  own  merits  with 
a  good-natured  laugh,  “  had  best  commence  by  showing  his 
familiarity  with  the  past.  Who  and  what  is  he  that  speaks 
to  thee,  as  a  specimen  of  thy  skill  in  soothsaying  ?  ” 

“  His  eccellenza  is  more  than  he  seems,  less  than  he  de¬ 
serves  to  be,  and  as  much  as  any  present.  He  hath  an  old 
and  a  prized  friend  at  his  elbow  ;  hath  come  because  it  was 
his  pleasure,  to  witness  the  games  at  Vevey  —  will  depart 
for  the  same  reason,  when  they  are  over,  and  will  seek  his 
home  at  his  leisure  —  not  like  a  fox  stealing  into  his  hole, 
but  as  the  stately  ship  sails  gallantly,  and  by  the  light  of  the 
sun,  into  her  haven.” 

“  This  will  never  do,  Pippo,”  returned  the  good-humored 
old  noble ;  “  at  need  I  might  equal  this  myself.  Thou 
shouldst  relate  that  which  is  less  probable,  while  it  is  more 
true.” 

“  Signore,  we  prophets  like  to  sleep  in  whole  skins.  If 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


49 


it  be  your  eccellenza’s  pleasure  and  that  of  your  noble  com¬ 
pany  to  listen  to  the  truly  wonderful,  I  will  tell  some  of 
these  honest  people  matters  touching  their  own  interests 
that  they  do  not  know  themselves,  and  yet  it  shall  be  as 
clear  to  everybody  else  as  the  sun  in  the  heavens  at  noon¬ 
day.” 

“  Thou  wilt  probably  tell  them  their  faults  ?  ” 

“  Your  eccellenza  has  a  right  to  my  place,  for  no  prophet 
could  have  better  divined  mv  intention,”  answered  the 
laughing  knave.  “  Come  nearer,  friend,”  he  added,  beckon¬ 
ing  to  the  Bernois  ;  “  thou  art  Nicklaus  Wagner,  a  fat  peas¬ 
ant  of  the  great  canton,  and  a  warm  husbandman,  that 
fancies  he  has  a  title  to  the  respect  of  all  he  meets,  because 
some  one  among  his  fathers  bought  a  right  in  the  biirger- 
schaft.  Thou  hast  a  large  stake  in  the  Winkelried,  and  art 
at  this  moment  thinking  what  punishment  is  good  enough 
for  an  impudent  soothsayer  who  dares  dive  so  unceremo¬ 
niously  into  the  secrets  of  so  warm  a  citizen ;  while  all 
around  thee  wish  thy  cheeses  had  never  left  the  dairy,  to 
the  discomfort  of  our  limbs  and  to  the  great  detriment  of 
the  bark’s  speed.” 

This  sally  at  the  expense  of  Nicklaus  drew  a  burst  of 
merriment  from  the  listeners  ;  for  the  selfish  spirit  he  had 
manifested  throughout  the  day  had  won  little  favor  with  a 
majority  of  his  fellow-travellers,  who  had  all  the  generous 
propensities  that  are  usually  so  abundant  among  those  who 
have  little  or  nothing  to  bestow,  and  who  were  by  this  time 
so  well  disposed  to  be  merry  that  much  less  would  have 
served  to  stimulate  their  mirth. 

“  Wert  thou  the  owner  of  this  good  freight,  friend,  thou 
might  find  its  presence  less  uncomfortable  than  thou  now 
appearest  to  think,”  returned  the  literal  peasant,  who  had 
no  humor  for  raillery,  and  to  whom  a  jest  on  the  subject 
of  property  had  that  sort  of  irreverent  character  that  popu¬ 
lar  opinion  and  holy  sayings  have  attached  to  waste.  “  The 
cheeses  are  well  enough  where  they  find  themselves  ;  if 
thou  dislikest  their  company  thou  hast  the  alternative  of  the 
water.” 

“  A  truce  between  us,  worshipful  burgher !  and  let  our 
4 


50 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


skirmish  end  in  something  that  may  be  useful  to  both. 
Thou  hast  that  which  would  be  acceptable  to  me,  and  I 
have  that  which  no  owner  of  cheeses  would  refuse,  did  he 
know  the  means  by  which  it  might  be  come  at  honestly.” 

Nicklaus  growled  a  few  words  of  distrust  and  indiffer¬ 
ence,  but  it  was  jdain  that  the  ambiguous  language  of  the 
juggler,  as  usual,  had  succeeded  in  awakening  interest. 
With  the  affectation  of  a  mind  secretly  conscious  of  its  own 
infirmity,  he  pretended  to  be  indifferent  to  what  the  other 
professed  a  readiness  to  reveal,  while  with  the  rapacity  of  a 
grasping  spirit  he  betrayed  a  longing  to  know  more. 

“  First  I  will  tell  thee,”  said  Pippo,  with  a  parade  of 
good  nature,  “  that  thou  deservest  to  remain  in  ignorance,  as 
a  punishment  of  thy  pride  and  want  of  faith  ;  but  it  is  the 
failing  of  your  prophet  to  let  that  be  known  which  he  ought 
to  conceal.  Thou  flatterest  thyself  this  is  the  fattest  cargo 
of  cheeses  that  will  cross  the  Swiss  waters  this  season,  on 
their  way  to  an  Italian  market  ?  Shake  not  thy  head. 
’Tis  useless  to  deny  it  to  a  man  of  my  learning  !  ” 

“  Nay,  I  know  there  are  others  as  heavy,  and,  it  may  be, 
as  good  ;  but  this  has  the  advantage  of  being  the  first,  a 
circumstance  that  is  certain  to  command  a  price.” 

“  Such  is  the  blindness  of  one  that  Nature  sent  on  earth 
to  deal  in  cheeses !  ”  The  Herr  Yon  Willading  and  his 
friends  smiled  among  themselves  at  the  cool  impudence  of 
the  mountebank.  “  Thou  fanciest  it  is  so  ;  and  at  this  mo¬ 
ment  a  heavily-laden  bark  is  driving  before  a  favorable  gale, 
near  the  upper  end  of  the  lake  of  the  four  cantons,  while  a 
long  line  of  mules  is  waiting  at  Fluellen  to  bear  its  freight 
by  the  paths  of  the  St.  Gothard  to  Milano,  and  other  rich 
markets  of  the  south.  In  virtue  of  my  secret  power,  I  see 
that,  in  despite  of  all  thy  cravings,  it  will  arrive  before 
thine.” 

Nicklaus  fidgeted,  for  the  graphic  particularity  of  Pippo 
almost  led  him  to  believe  the  augury  might  be  true. 

“  Had  this  bark  sailed  according  to  our  covenant,”  he 
said,  with  a  simplicity  that  betrayed  his  uneasiness,  “  the 
beasts  bespoken  by  me  would  now  be  loading  at  Villeneuve  ; 
and,  if  there  be  justice  in  Vaud,  I  shall  hold  Baptiste  re- 


THE  HEADSMAN.  51 

sponsible  for  any  disadvantage  that  may  come  of  the  neg¬ 
lect.’' 

“  Luckily,  the  generous  Baptiste  is  asleep,”  returned 
Pippo,  “  or  we  might  hear  objections  to  this  scheme.  But, 
Signori,  I  see  you  are  satisfied  with  this  insight  into  the 
character  of  the  warm  peasant  of  Berne,  who,  to  say  truth, 
has  not  much  to  conceal  from  us,  and  I  will  turn  my  search¬ 
ing  looks  into  the  soul  of  this  pious  pilgrim,  the  reverend 
Conrado,  whose  unction  may  well  go  near  to  be  a  leaven 
sufficient  to  lighten  all  in  the  bark  of  their  burdens  of  back- 
slidings.  Thou  carriest  the  penitence  and  prayers  of  many 
sinners,  besides  some  merchandise  of  this  nature  of  thine 
own.” 

“I  am  bound  to  Loretto,  with  the  mental  offerings  of 
certain  Christians,  who  are  too  much  occupied  with  their 
daily  concerns  to  make  the  journey  in  person,”  answered 
the  pilgrim,  who  never  absolutely  threw  aside  his  pro¬ 
fessional  character,  though  he  cared  in  general  so  little 
about  his  hypocrisy  being  known.  “  I  am  poor,  and  humble 
of  appearance,  but  I  have  seen  miracles  in  my  day  !  ” 

“  If  any  trust  valuable  offerings  to  thy  keeping,  thou  art 
a  living  miracle  in  thine  own  person  !  I  can  foresee  that 
thou  wilt  bear  naught  else  beside  aves.” 

“  Nay,  I  pretend  to  deal  in  little  more.  The  rich  and 
great,  they  that  send  vessels  of  gold  and  rich  dresses  to 
Our  Lady,  employ  their  own  favorite  messengers  ;  I  am  but 
the  bearer  of  prayer  and  the  substitute  for  the  penitent. 
The  sufferings  that  I  undergo  in  the  flesh  are  passed  to  the 
credit  of  my  employers,  who  get  the  benefit  of  my  aches 
and  pains.  I  pretend  to  be  no  more  than  their  go-between, 
as  yonder  mariner  has  so  lately  called  me.” 

Pippo  turned  suddenly,  following  the  direction  of  the 
other’s  eye,  and  cast  a  glance  at  the  self-styled  II  Maledetto. 
This  individual,  of  all  the  common  herd,  had  alone  forborne 
to  join  the  gaping  and  amused  crowd  near  the  juggler. 
His  forbearance,  or  want  of  curiosity,  had  left  him  in  the 
quiet  possession  of  the  little  platform  that  was  made  by  the 
stowage  of  the  boxes,  and  he  now  stood  on  the  summit  of 
the  pile,  conspicuous  by  his  situation  and  mien,  the  lattei 


52 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


being  remarkable  for  its  unmoved  calmness,  heightened  by 
the  understanding  manner  that  is  so  peculiar  to  a  seaman 
when  afloat. 

“  Wilt  thou  have  the  history  of  thy  coming  perils,  friend 
mariner?”  cried  the  mercurial  mountebank  :  “  a  journal  of 
thy  future  risks  and  tempests  to  amuse  you  in  this  calm  ? 
such  a  picture  of  sea-monsters  and  of  coral  that  grows  in 
the  ocean’s  caverns,  where  mariners  sleep,  that  shall  give 
thee  the  nightmare  for  months,  and  cause  thee  to  dream  of 
wrecks  and  bleached  bones  for  the  rest  of  thy  life  ?  Thou 
hast  only  to  wish  it,  to  have  the  adventures  of  thy  next 
voyage  laid  before  thee,  like  a  map.” 

“  Thou  wouldst  gain  more  credit  with  me,  as  one  cunning 
in  thy  art,  by  giving  the  history  of  the  last.” 

“  The  request  is  reasonable,  and  thou  shalt  have  it ;  for  I 
love  the  bold  adventurer  that  trusts  himself  hardily  upon 
the  great  deep,”  answered  the  unabashed  Pippo.  “My  first 
lessons  in  necromancy  were  received  on  the  mole  of  Napoli, 
amid  burly  Inglesi,  straight-nosed  Greeks,  swarthy  Sicilians, 
and  Maltese  with  spirits  as  fine  as  the  gold  of  their  own 
chains.  This  was  the  school  in  which  I  learned  to  know 
my  art,  and  an  apt  scholar  I  proved  in  all  that  touches 
the  philosophy  and  humanity  of  my  craft.  Signore,  thy 
palm  ?  ” 

Maso  spread  his  sinewy  hand  in  the  direction  of  the  jug¬ 
gler,  without  descending  from  his  elevation,  and  in  a  way 
to  show  that,  while  he  would  not  balk  the  common  humor, 
he  was  superior  to  the  gaping  wonder  and  childish  credulity 
of  most  of  those  who  watched  the  result.  Pippo  affected 
to  stretch  out  his  neck,  in  order  to  study  the  hard  and  dark 
lines,  and  then  he  resumed  his  revelations,  like  one  perfectly 
satisfied  with  what  he  had  discovered. 

“  The  hand  is  masculine,  and  has  been  familiar  with 
many  friends  in  time.  It  hath  dealt  with  steel,  and  cord¬ 
age,  and  saltpetre,  and  most  of  all  with  gold.  Signori,  the 
true  seat  of  a  man’s  digestion  lies  in  the  palm  of  his  hand  ; 
if  that  is  free  to  give  and  to  receive,  he  will  never  have  a 
costive  conscience,  for  of  all  damnable  inconveniences  that 
afflict  mortals,  that  of  a  conscience  that  will  neither  give  up 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


58 


nor  take  is  the  heaviest  curse.  Let  a  man  have  as  much 
sagacity  as  shall  make  him  a  cardinal,  if  it  get  entangled  in 
the  meshes  of  one  of  your  unyielding  consciences,  ye  shall 
see  him  a  mendicant  brother  to  his  dyin«'  day  ;  let  him  be 
born  a  prince,  with  a  close- ribbed  opinion  of  this  sort,  and 
he  had  better  have  been  born  a  beggar,  for  his  reign  will  be 
like  a  river  from  which  the  current  sets  outward,  without 
any  return.  No,  my  friends,  a  palm  like  this  of  Maso’s  is 
a  favorable  sign,  since  it  hinges  on  a  pliant  will,  that  will 
open  and  shut  like  a  well-formed  eye,  or  the  jacket  of  a 
shell-fish,  at  its  owner’s  pleasure.  Thou  hast  drawn  near 
to  many  a  port  before  this  of  Vevey,  after  the  sun  has 
fallen  low,  Signor  Maso  !  ” 

“  In  that  I  have  taken  a  seaman’s  chances,  which  depend 
more  on  the  winds  than  on  his  own  wishes.” 

“  Thou  esteemest  the  bottom  of  the  craft  in  which  thou 
art  required  to  sail,  as  far  more  important  than  her  ancient. 
Thou  hast  an  eye  for  a  keel,  but  none  for  color  ;  unless, 
indeed,  as  it  may  happen  to  be  convenient  to  seem  that  thou 
art  not.” 

“  Nay,  Master  Soothsayer,  I  suspect  thee  to  be  an  officer 
of  some  of  the  Holy  Brotherhoods,  sent  in  this  guise  to 
question  us  poor  travellers  to  our  ruin  !  ”  answered  Maso. 
“  I  am,  what  thou  seest,  but  a  poor  mariner  that  hath  no 
better  bark  under  him  than  this  of  Baptiste,  and  on  a  sea 
no  larger  than  a  Swiss  lake.” 

“  Shrewdly  observed,”  said  Pippo,  winking  to  those  near 
him,  though  he  so  little  liked  the  eye  and  bearing  of  the 
other  that  he  was  not  sorry  to  turn  to  some  new  subject. 
“  But  what  matters  it,  Signori,  to  be  speaking  of  the  qual¬ 
ities  of  men  !  We  are  alike  honorable,  merciful,  more  dis¬ 
posed  to  help  others  than  to  help  ourselves,  and  so  little 
given  to  selfishness  that  nature  has  been  obliged  to  supply 
every  mother’s  son  of  us  with  a  sort  of  goad,  that  shall  be 
constantly  pricking  us  on  to  look  after  our  own  interests. 
Here  are  animals  whose  dispositions  are  less  understood, 
and  we  will  bestow  a  useful  minute  in  examining  their  qual¬ 
ities.  Reverend  Augustine,  this  mastiff  of  thine  is  named 
Uberto  ?  ” 


54 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  He  is  known  by  that  appellation  throughout  the  can 
tons  and  their  allies.  The  fame  of  the  dog  reaches  even  to 
Turin,  and  to  most  of  the  towns  in  the  plain  of  Lombardy.” 

“  Now,  Signori,  you  perceive  that  this  is  but  a  secondary 
creature  in  the  scale  of  animals.  Do  him  good,  and  he  will 
be  grateful;  do  him  harm,  and  he  will  forgive.  Feed  him, 
and  he  is  satisfied.  He  will  travel  the  paths  of  the  St. 
Bernard  night  and  day  to  do  credit  to  his  training,  and 
when  the  toil  is  ended,  all  he  asks  is  just  as  much  meat 
as  will  keep  the  breath  within  his  ribs.  Had  Heaven  given 
(Jberto  a  conscience  and  greater  wit,  the  first  might  have 
shown  him  the  impiety  of  working  for  travellers  on  holy 
days  and  festas,  while  the  latter  would  be  apt  to  say  he 
was  a  fool  for  troubling  himself  about  the  safety  of  others 
at  all.” 

“  And  yet  his  masters,  the  good  Augustines  themselves, 
do  not  hold  so  selfish  a  creed  !  ”  observed  Adelheid. 

“  Ah  !  they  have  heaven  in  view  !  I  cry  the  reverend 
Augustine’s  pardon  —  but,  lady,  the  difference  is  in  the 
length  of  the  calculation.  Woe’s  me,  brethren;  I  would 
that  my  parents  had  educated  me  for  a  bishop,  or  a  viceroy, 
or  some  other  modest  employment,  that  this  learned  craft 
of  mine  might  have  fallen  into  better  hands !  Ye  would 
lose  in  instruction,  but  I  should  be  removed  from  the  giddy 
heights  of  ambition,  and  die  at  last  with  some  hopes  of 
being  a  saint.  Fair  lady,  thou  travellest  on  a  bootless 
errand,  if  I  know  the  reason  that  tempts  thee  to  cross  the 
Alps  at  this  late  season  of  the  year.” 

This  sudden  address  caused  both  Adelheid  and  her  father 
to  start,  for,  in  despite  of  pride  and  the  force  of  reason,  it  is 
seldom  that  we  can  completely  redeem  our  opinions  from 
the  shackles  of  superstition,  and  that  dread  of  the  unseen 
future  which  appears  to  have  been  entailed  upon  our 
nature,  as  a  ceaseless  monitor  of  the  eternal  state  of  being 
to  which  all  are  hastening,  with  steps  so  noiseless  and  yet 
so  sure.  The  countenance  of  the  maiden  changed,  and  she 
turned  a  quick,  involuntary  glance  at  her  anxious  parent, 
as  if  to  note  the  effect  of  this  rude  announcement  on  him, 
before  she  answered. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


55 


“  I  go  in  quest  of  the  blessing,  health,”  she  said,  “  and  I 
should  be  sorry  to  think  thy  prognostic  likely  to  be  realized. 
With  youth,  a  good  constitution,  and  tender  friends  on  my 
side,  there  is  reason  to  think  thou  mayest,  in  this  at  least, 
prove  a  false  prophet.” 

“  Lady,  hast  thou  hope  ?  ” 

Pippo  ventured  this  question  as  he  had  adventured  his 
opinion  ;  that  is  to  say,  recklessly,  pretendingly,  and  with 
great  indifference  to  any  effect  it  might  have,  except  as  it 
was  likely  to  establish  his  reputation  with  the  crowd.  Still, 
it  would  seem  that,  by  one  of  those  singular  coincidences 
that  are  hourly  occurring  in  real  life,  he  had  unwittingly 
touched  a  sensitive  chord  in  the  system  of  his  fair  fellow- 
traveller.  Her  eyes  sank  to  the  deck  at  this  abrupt  ques¬ 
tion,  the  color  again  stole  to  her  polished  temples,  and  the 
least  practiced  in  the  emotions  of  the  sex  might  have  de¬ 
tected  painful  embarrassment  in  her  mien.  She  was,  how¬ 
ever,  spared  the  awkwardness  of  a  reply,  by  the  unexpected 
and  prompt  interference  of  Maso. 

“  Hope  is  the  last  of  our  friends  to  prove  recreant,”  said 
this  mariner,  u  else  would  the  cases  of  many  in  company  be 
bad  enough,  thine  own  included,  Pippo ;  for,  judging  by  the 
outward  signs,  the  Swabian  campaign  has  not  been  rich  in 
spoils.” 

“  Providence  has  ordered  the  harvests  of  wit  much  as  it 
has  ordered  the  harvests  of  the  field,”  returned  the  juggler, 
who  felt  the  sarcasm  of  the  other’s  remark  with  all  the 
poignancy  that  it  could  derive  from  truth ;  since,  to  expose 
his  real  situation,  he  was  absolutely  indebted  to  an  ex¬ 
traordinary  access  of  generosity  in  Baptiste  for  his  very 
passage  across  the  Leman.  “  One  year,  thou  shalt  find  tire 
vineyard  dripping  liquors  precious  as  diamonds,  while  in  the 
next  barrenness  shall  make  it  its  seat.  To-day  the  peasant 
will  complain  that  poverty  prevents  him  from  building  the 
covering  necessary  to  house  his  crops,  while  to-morrow  he 
will  be  heard  groaning  over  empty  garners.  Abundance 
and  famine  travel  the  earth  hard  upon  each  other’s  heels, 
and  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  who  lives  by  his  wits  should 
sometimes  fail  of  his  harvest,  as  well  as  he  who  lives  by  his 
hands.” 


56 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  If  constant  custom  can  secure  success,  the  pious  Con¬ 
rad  should  be  prosperous,”  answered  Maso,  “  for,  of  all 
machinery,  that  of  sin  is  the  least  seldom  idle.  His  trade 
at  least  can  never  fail  for  want  of  employers.” 

“  Thou  hast  it,  Signor  Maso  ;  and  it  is  for  this  especial 
reason  that  I  wish  my  parents  had  educated  me  for  a  bish¬ 
opric.  He  that  is  charged  with  reproving  his  fellow- 
creatures  for  their  vices  need  never  know  an  idle  hour.” 

“  Thou  dost  not  understand  what  thou  sayest,”  put  in 
Conrad ;  “  love  for  the  saints  has  much  fallen  away  since 
my  youth,  and  where  there  is  one  Christian  ready  now  to 
bestow  his  silver,  in  order  to  get  the  blessing  of  some 
favorite  shrine,  there  were  then  ten.  I  have  heard  the 
elders  of  us  pilgrims  say,  that  fifty  years  since  ’twas  a 
pleasure  to  bear  the  sins  of  a  whole  parish,  for  ours  is  a 
business  in  which  the  load  does  not  so  much  depend  on  the 
amount  as  the  quality  ;  and  in  their  time  there  were  willing 
offerings,  frank  confessions,  and  generous  consideration  for 
those  who  undertook  the  toil.” 

“  In  such  a  trade,  the  less  thou  hast  to  answer  for,  in 
behalf  of  others,  the  more  will  pass  to  thy  credit  on  the 
score  of  thine  own  backslidings,”  pithily  remarked  Nicklaus 
Wagner,  who  was  a  sturdy  Protestant,  and  apt  enough  at 
leveling  these  side-hits  at  those  who  professed  a  faith  ob¬ 
noxious  to  the  attacks  of  all  who  dissented  from  the  opinions 
and  the  spiritual  domination  of  Pome. 

But  Conrad  was  a  rare  specimen  of  what  may  be  effected 
by  training  and  well-rooted  prejudices.  In  presenting  this 
man  to  the  mind  of  the  reader,  we  have  no  intention  to 
impugn  the  doctrines  of  the  particular  Church  to  which  he 
belonged,  but  simply  to  show,  as  the  truth  will  fully  war¬ 
rant,  to  what  a  pass  of  flagrant  and  impudent  pretension 
the  qualities  of  man,  unbridled  by  the  wholesome  corrective 
of  a  sound  and  healthful  opinion,  were  capable  of  conduct¬ 
ing  abuses  on  the  most  solemn  and  gravest  subjects.  In 
that  age  usages  prevailed,  and  were  so  familiar  to  the  minds 
of  the  actors  as  to  excite  neither  reflection  nor  comment, 
which  would  now  lead  to  revolutions,  and  a  general  rising 
in  defense  of  principles  which  are  held  to  be  clear  as  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


57 


air  we  breathe.  Though  we  entertain  no  doubt  of  the 
existence  of  that  truth  which  pervades  the  universe,  and  to 
which  all  things  tend,  we  think  the  world,  in  its  practices, 
its  theories,  and  its  conventional  standards  of  right  and 
wrong,  is  in  a  condition  of  constant  change,  which  it  should 
be  the  business  of  the  wise  and  good  to  favor,  so  long  as 
care  is  had  that  the  advantage  is  not  bought  by  a  reaction 
of  evil,  that  shall  more  than  prove  its  counterpoise.  Con¬ 
rad  was  one  of  the  lowest  class  of  those  fungi  that  grow  out 
of  the  decayed  parts  of  the  moral,  as  their  more  material 
types  prove  the  rottenness  of  the  vegetable  world ;  and  the 
probability  of  the  truth  of  the  portraiture  is  not  to  be 
loosely  denied,  without  mature  reflection  on  the  similar 
anomalies  that  are  yet  to  be  found  on  every  side  of  us,  or 
without  studying  the  history  of  the  abuses  which  then  dis¬ 
graced  Christianity,  and  which,  in  truth,  became  so  intoler¬ 
able  in  their  character,  and  so  hideous  in  their  features,  as 
to  be  the  chief  influencing  cause  to  bring  about  their  own 
annihilation. 

Pippo,  who  had  that  useful  tact  which  enables  a  man  to 
measure  his  own  estimation  with  others,  was  not  slow  to 
perceive  that  the  more  enlightened  part  of  his  audience 
began  to  tire  of  this  pretending  buffoonery.  Resorting  to 
a  happy  subterfuge,  by  means  of  one  of  his  sleight-of-hand 
expedients,  he  succeeded  in  transferring  the  whole  of  that 
portion  of  the  spectators  who  still  found  amusement  in  his 
jugglery,  to  the  other  end  of  the  vessel,  where  they  estab¬ 
lished  themselves  among  the  anchors,  ready  as  ever  to 
swallow  an  aliment  that  seems  to  find  an  inextinguishable 
appetite  for  its  reception  among  the  vulgar.  Here  he  con¬ 
tinued  his  exhibition,  now  moralizing  in  the  quaint  and 
often  in  the  pithy  manner,  which  renders  the  southern 
buffoon  so  much  superior  to  his  duller  competitor  of  the 
north,  and  uttering  a  wild  jumble  of  wholesome  truths, 
loose  morality,  and  witty  innuendoes,  the  latter  of  which 
never  failed  to  extort  roars  of  laughter  from  all  but  those 
who  happened  to  be  their  luckless  subjects. 

Once  or  twice  Baptiste  raised  his  head,  and  stared  about 
him  with  drowsy  eyes,  but,  satisfied  there  was  nothing  to  be 


58 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


done  in  the  way  of  forcing  the  vessel  ahead,  he  resumed  his 
nap,  without  interfering  in  the  pastime  of  those  whom  he 
had  hitherto  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  annoying.  Left 
entirely  to  themselves,  therefore,  the  crowd  on  the  fore¬ 
castle  represented  one  of  those  every-day  but  profitable 
pictures  of  life,  which  abound  under  our  eyes,  but  which, 
though  they  are  pregnant  with  instruction,  are  treated  with 
the  indifference  that  would  seem  to  be  the  inevitable  conse¬ 
quence  of  familiarity. 

The  crowded  and  overloaded  bark  might  have  been  com¬ 
pared  to  the  vessel  of  human  life,  which  floats  at  all  times 
subject  to  the  thousand  accidents  of  a  delicate  and  com¬ 
plicated  machinery  ;  the  lake  so  smooth  and  alluring  in  its 
present  tranquillity,  but  so  capable  of  lashing  its  iron-bound 
coasts  with  fury,  to  a  treacherous  world,  whose  smile  is 
almost  always  as  dangerous  as  its  frown  ;  and,  to  complete 
the  picture,  the  idle,  laughing,  thoughtless,  and  yet  inflam¬ 
mable  group  that  surrounded  the  buffoon,  to  the  unaccount¬ 
able  medley  of  human  sympathies,  of  sudden  and  fierce  pas¬ 
sions,  of  fun  and  frolic,  so  inexplicably  mingled  with  the 
grossest  egotism  that  enters  into  the  heart  of  man  :  in  a 
word,  to  so  much  that  is  beautiful  and  divine,  with  so  much 
that  would  seem  to  be  derived  directly  from  the  demons,  a 
compound  which  composes  this  mysterious  and  dread  state 
of  being,  and  which  we  are  taught,  by  reason  and  revela¬ 
tion,  is  only  a  preparation  for  another  still  more  incom¬ 
prehensible  and  wonderful. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


59 


CHAPTER  Y. 

How  like  a  fawning  publican  he  looks ! 

Shylock. 

The  change  of  the  juggler’s  scene  of  action  left  the  party 
in  the  stern  of  the  barge  in  quiet  possession  of  their  portion 
of  the  vessel.  Baptiste  and  his  boatmen  still  slept  among 
the  boxes  ;  Maso  continued  to  pace  his  elevated  platform 
above  their  heads  ;  and  the  meek-looking  stranger,  whose 
entrance  into  the  barge  had  drawn  so  many  witticisms  from 
Pippo,  sat  a  little  apart,  silent,  furtively  observant,  and 
retiring,  in  the  identical  spot  he  had  occupied  throughout 
the  day.  With  these  exceptions,  the  whole  of  the  rest  of 
the  travellers  were  crowding  around  the  person  of  the 
mountebank.  Perhaps  we  have  not  done  well,  however, 
in  classing  either  of  the  two  just  named  with  the  more 
common  herd,  for  there  were  strong  points  of  difference  to 
distinguish  both  from  most  of  their  companions. 

The  exterior  and  the  personal  appointments  of  the 
unknown  traveller,  who  had  shrunk  so  sensitively  before 
the  hits  of  the  Neapolitan,  were  greatly  superior  to  those  of 
any  other  in  the  bark  beneath  the  degree  of  the  gentle,  not 
even  excepting  those  of  the  warm  peasant  Nicklaus  Wagner, 
the  owner  of  so  large  a  portion  of  the  freight.  There  was 
a  decency  of  air  that  commanded  more  respect  than  it  was 
then  usual  to  yield  to  the  nameless,  a  quietness  of' demeanor 
that  denoted  reflection  and  the  habit  of  self-study  and  self¬ 
correction,  together  with  a  deference  to  others  that  was 
well  adapted  to  gain  friends.  In  the  midst  of  the  noisy, 
clamorous  merriment  of  all  around  him,  his  restrained  and 
rebuked  manner  had  won  upon  the  favor  of  the  more  privi¬ 
leged,  who  had  unavoidably  noticed  the  difference,  and  had 
prepared  the  way  to  a  more  frank  communication  between 


GO 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


the  party  of  the  noble,  and  one  who,  if  not  their  equal  in 
the  usual  points  of  worldly  distinction,  was  greatly  superior 
to  those  among  whom  he  had  been  accidentally  cast  by  the 
chances  of  his  journey.  Not  so  with  Maso  ;  he,  apparently, 
had  little  in  common  with  the  unobtruding  and  silent  being 
that  sat  so  near  his  path,  in  the  short  turns  he  was  making 
to  and  fro  across  the  pile  of  freight.  The  mariner  was 
much  the  younger,  his  years  scarcely  reaching  thirty,  while 
the  head  of  the  unknown  traveller  was  already  beginning  to 
be  sprinkled  with  gray.  The  walk,  attitudes,  and  gestures, 
of  the  former,  were  also  those  of  a  man  confident  of  himself, 
a  little  addicted  to  be  indifferent  to  others,  and  far  more 
disposed  to  lead  than  to  follow.  These  are  qualities  that  it 
may  be  thought  his  present  situation  was  scarcely  suited  to 
discover,  but  they  had  been  made  sufficiently  apparent,  by 
the  cool,  calculating  looks  he  threw,  from  time  to  time,  at 
the  manoeuvres  commanded  by  Baptiste,  the  expressive 
sneer  with  which  he  criticised  his  decisions,  and  a  few  bit¬ 
ing  remarks  which  had  escaped  him  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  and  which  had  conveyed  anything  but  compliments  to 
the  nautical  skill  of  the  patron  and  his  fresh* water  followers. 
Still  there  were  signs  of  better  stuff  in  this  suspicious-look¬ 
ing  person  than  are  usually  seen  about  men  whose  attire, 
pursuits,  and  situation  are  so  indicative  of  the  world’s  press¬ 
ing  hard  upon  their  principles,  as  happened  to  be  the  fact 
with  this  poor  and  unknown  seaman.  Though  ill  clad,  and 
wearing  about  him  the  general  tokens  of  a  vagrant  life,  and 
that  loose  connection  with  society  that  is  usually  taken  as 
sufficient  evidence  of  one’s  demerits,  his  countenance  occa¬ 
sionally  denoted  thought,  and,  during  the  day,  his  eye  had 
frequently  wandered  towards  the  group  of  his  more  intelli¬ 
gent  fellow-passengers,  as  if  he  found  subjects  of  greater 
interest  in  their  discourse,  than  in  the  rude  pleasantries  and 
practical  jokes  of  those  nearer  his  person. 

The  high-bred  are  always  courteous,  except  in  cases  in 
which  presumption  repels  civility  ;  for  they  who  are  accus¬ 
tomed  to  the  privileges  of  station,  think  far  less  of  their 
immunites  than  they,  who,  by  being  excluded  from  the 
fancied  advantages,  are  apt  to  exaggerate  a  superiority  that 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


61 


a  short  experience  would  show  becomes  of  very  question¬ 
able  value  in  the  possession.  Without  this  equitable  provis¬ 
ion  of  Providence,  the  laws  of  civilized  society  would 
become  truly  intolerable,  for,  if  peace  of  mind,  pleasure,  and 
what  is  usually  termed  happiness,  were  the  exclusive  enjoy¬ 
ment  of  those  who  are  rich  and  honored,  there  would, 
indeed,  be  so  crying  an  injustice  in  their  present  ordinances 
as  could  not  long  withstand  the  united  assaults  of  reason 
and  justice.  But,  happily  for  the  relief  of  the  less  gifted 
and  the  peace  of  the  world,  the  fact  is  very  different. 
Wealth  has  its  peculiar  woes  ;  honors  and  privileges  pall  in 
the  use ;  and,  perhaps,  as  a  rule,  there  is  less  of  that 
regulated  contentment,  which  forms  the  nearest  approach  to 
the  condition  of  the  blessed  of  which  this  unquiet  state  of 
being  is  susceptible,  among  those  who  are  usually  the  most 
envied  by  their  fellow-creatures,  than  in  any  other  of  the 
numerous  gradations  into  which  the  social  scale  has  been 
divided.  He  who  reads  our  present  legend  with  the  eyes 
that  we  could  wish,  will  find  in  its  moral  the  illustration  of 
this  truth  ;  for,  if  it  is  our  intention  to  delineate  some  of  the 
wrongs  that  spring  from  the  abuses  of  the  privileged  and 
powerful,  we  hope  equally  to  show  how  completely  they 
fall  short  of  their  object,  by  failing  to  confer  that  exclusive 
happiness  which  is  the  goal  that  all  struggle  to  attain. 

Neither  the  Baron  de  Willading,  nor  his  noble  friend, 
the  Genoese,  though  educated  in  the  opinions  of  their  caste, 
and  necessarily  under  the  influence  of  the  prejudices  of  the 
age,  was  addicted  to  the  insolence  of  vulgar  pride.  Their 
habits  had  revolted  at  the  coarseness  of  the  majority  of  the 
travellers,  and  they  were  glad  to  be  rid  of  them  by  the 
expedient  of  Pippo ;  but  no  sooner  did  the  modest,  decent 
air  of  the  stranger  who  remained,  make  itself  apparent,  than 
they  felt  a  desire  to  compensate  him  for  the  privations  he 
had  already  undergone,  by  showing  the  civilities  that  their 
own  rank  rendered  so  easy  and  usually  so  grateful.  With 
this  view,  then,  as  soon  as  the  noisy  troupe  had  departed, 
the  Signor  Grimaldi  raised  his  beaver  with  that  discreet 
and  imposing  politeness  which  equally  attracts  and  repels, 
and  addressing  the  solitary  stranger,  he  invited  him  to 


62 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


descend,  and  stretch  his  legs  on  the  part  of  the  deck  which 
had  hitherto  been  considered  exclusively  devoted  to  the  use 
of  his  own  party.  The  other  started,  reddened,  and  looked 
like  one  who  doubted  whether  he  had  heard  aright. 

“  These  noble  gentlemen  would  be  glad  if  you  would 
come  down,  and  take  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  re¬ 
lieve  your  limbs,”  said  the  young  Sigismund,  raising  his  own 
athletic  arm  towards  the  stranger,  to  offer  its  assistance  in 
helping  him  to  reach  the  deck. 

Still  the  unknown  traveller  hesitated,  in  the  manner  of 
one  who  feared  he  might  overstep  discretion,  by  obtruding 
beyond  the  limits  imposed  by  modesty.  He  glanced  fur¬ 
tively  upwards  at  the  place  where  Maso  had  posted  himself, 
and  muttered  something  of  an  intention  to  profit  by  its 
present  nakedness. 

“  It  has  an  occupant  who  does  not  seem  disposed  to  ad¬ 
mit  another,”  said  Sigismund,  smiling  ;  “  your  mariner  has  a 
self-possession  when  afloat,  that  usually  gives  him  the  same 
superiority  that  the  well-armed  swasher  has  among  the  timid 
in  the  street.  You  wrould  do  well,  then,  to  accept  the  offer 
of  the  noble  Genoese.” 

The  stranger,  who  had  once  or  twice  been  called  rather 
ostentatiously  by  Baptiste  the  Herr  Muller,  during  the  day, 
as  if  the  patron  were  disposed  to  let  his  hearers  know  that 
he  had  those  who  at  least  bore  creditable  names,  even 
among  his  ordinary  passengers,  no  longer  delayed.  He 
came  down  from  his  seat,  and  moved  about  the  deck,  in  his 
usual  quiet,  subdued  manner,  but  in  a  way  to  show  that  he 
found  a  very  sensible  and  grateful  relief  in  being  permitted 
to  make  the  change.  Sigismund  was  rewarded  for  this  act 
of  good-nature  by  a  smile  from  Adelheid,  who  thought  his 
warm  interference  in  behalf  of  one,  seemingly  so  much  his 
inferior,  did  no  discredit  to  his  rank.  It  is  possible  that 
the  youthful  soldier  had  some  secret  sentiment  of  the  ad¬ 
vantage  he  derived  from  his  kind  interest  in  the  stranger, 
for  his  brow  flushed,  and  he  looked  more  satisfied  with 
himself,  after  this  little  office  of  humanity  had  been  per¬ 
formed. 

“  You  are  better  among  us  here,”  the  baron  kindly  ol> 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


63 


served,  when  the  Herr  Muller  was  fairly  established  in  his 
new  situation,  “  than  among  the  freight  of  the  honest  Nick- 
laus  Wagner,  who,  Heaven  help  the  worthy  peasant !  has 
loaded  us  fairly  to  the  water’s  edge  with  the  notable  indus¬ 
try  of  his  dairy  people.  I  like  to  witness  the  prosperity 
of  our  burghers,  but  it  would  have  been  better  for  us  trav¬ 
ellers,  at  least,  had  there  been  less  of  the  wealth  of  hon¬ 
est  Nicklaus  in  our  company.  Are  you  of  Berne,  or  of 
Zurich  ?  ” 

“  Of  Berne,  Herr  Baron.” 

“  I  might  have  guessed  that,  by  finding  you  on  the  Gen- 
fer  See,  instead  of  on  the  Wallenstatter.  There  are  many 
of  the  Mullers  in  the  Emmen  Thai  ?  ” 

“  The  Herr  is  right ;  the  name  is  frequent,  both  in  that 
valley,  and  in  Entlibuch.” 

“  It  is  a  frequent  appellation  among  us  of  the  Teutonic 
stock.  I  had  many  Mullers  in  my  company,  Gaetano,  when 
we  lay  before  Mantua.  I  remember  that  two  of  the  brave 
fellows  were  buried  in  the  marshes  of  that  low  country  ; 
for  the  fever  helped  the  enemy  as  much  as  the  sword, 
in  the  life-wasting  campaign  of  the  year  we  besieged  the 
place.” 

The  more  observant  Italian  saw  that  the  stranger  was 
distressed  by  the  personal  nature  of  the  conversation,  and, 
while  he  quietly  assented  to  his  friend’s  remark,  he  took 
occasion  to  give  it  a  new  direction. 

“  You  travel,  like  ourselves,  Signore,  to  get  a  look  at 
these  far-famed  revels  of  the  Vevaisans?” 

“  That  and  affairs  have  brought  me  into  this  honorable 
company,”  answered  the  Herr  Muller,  whom  no  kindness 
of  tone,  however,  could  win  from  his  timid  and  subdued 
manner  of  speaking.  “And  thou,  father,”  turning  to  the 
Augustine,  “  art  journeying  towards  thy  mountain  resi¬ 
dence,  after  a  visit  of  love  to  the  valleys  and  their  peo¬ 
ple  ?  ” 

The  monk  of  St.  Bernard  assented  to  the  truth  of  this 
remark,  explaining  the  manner  in  which  his  community 
were  accustomed  annually  to  appeal  to  the  liberality  of  the 
generous  in  Switzerland,  in  behalf  of  an  institution  that 


64 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


was  founded  in  the  interest  of  humanity,  without  reference 
to  distinction  of  faith. 

“  ’Tis  a  blessed  brotherhood,”  answered  the  Genoese, 
crossing  himself,  perhaps  as  much  from  habit  as  from  devo¬ 
tion,  “  and  the  traveller  need  wish  it  well.  I  have  never 
shared  your  hospitality,  but  all  report  speaks  fairly  of  it, 
and  the  title  of  a  brother  of  San  Bernardo  should  prove  a 
passport  to  the  favor  of  every  Christian.” 

“  Signore,”  said  Maso,  stopping  suddenly,  and  taking  his 
part  uninvited  in  the  discourse,  and  yet  in  a  way  to  avoid 
the  appearance  of  an  impertinent  interference,  “  none  know 
this  better  than  I !  A  wanderer  these  many  years,  I  have 
often  seen  the  stony  roof  of  the  hospice  with  as  much 
pleasure  as  I  have  ever  beheld  the  entrance  of  my  haven, 
when  an  adverse  gale  was  pressing  against  my  canvas. 
Honor  and  a  rich  quete  to  the  clavier  of  the  convent,  there¬ 
fore,  for  it  is  bringing  succor  to  the  poor  and  rest  to  the 
weary !  ” 

As  he  uttered  this  opinion,  Maso  decorously  raised  his 
cap,  and  pursued  his  straitened  walk  with  the  industry  of 
a  caged  tiger.  It  was  so  unusual  for  one  of  his  condition 
to  obtrude  on  the  discourse  of  the  fair  and  noble,  that  the 
party  exchanged  looks  of  surprise  ;  but  the  Signor  Gri¬ 
maldi,  more  accustomed  than  most  of  his  friends  to  the  frank 
deportment  and  bold  speech  of  mariners,  from  having 
dwelt  long  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  felt  dis¬ 
posed  rather  to  humor  than  to  repulse  this  disposition  to 
talk. 

“  Thou  art  a  Genoese,  by  thy  dialect,”  he  said,  assuming 
as  a  matter  of  course  the  right  to  question  one  of  years  so 
much  fewer,  and  of  a  condition  so  much  inferior  to  his 
own. 

“  Signore,”  returned  Maso,  uncovering  himself  again, 
though  his  manner  betrayed  profound  personal  respect 
rather  than  the  deference  of  the  vulgar,  u  I  was  born  in 
the  city  of  palaces,  though  it  was  my  fortune  first  to  see 
the  light  beneath  a  humble  roof.  The  poorest  of  us  are 
proud  of  the  splendor  of  Genova  la  Superba,  oven  if  its 
glory  has  come  from  our  own  groans.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


65 


The  Signor  Grimaldi  frowned.  But  ashamed  to  permit 
himself  to  be  disturbed  by  an  allusion  so  vague,  and  per¬ 
haps  so  unpremeditated,  and  more  especially  coming  as  it 
did  from  so  insignificant  a  source,  his  brow  regained  its 
expression  of  habitual  composure. 

An  instant  of  reflection  told  him  it  would  be  in  better 
taste  to  continue  the  conversation,  than  churlishly  to  cut  it 
short  for  so  light  a  cause. 

“  Thou  art  too  young  to  have  had  much  connection, 
either  in  advantage  or  in  suffering,”  he  rejoined,  “  with 
the  erection  of  the  gorgeous  dwellings  to  which  thou  allud- 
est.” 

“  This  is  true,  Signore ;  except  as  one  is  better  or  worse 
for  those  who  have  gone  before  him.  I  am  what  I  seem, 
more  by  the  acts  of  others  than  by  any  faults  of  my  own. 
I  envy  not  the  rich  or  great,  however ;  for  one  that  has 
seen  as  much  of  life  as  I,  knows  the  difference  between  the 
gay  colors  of  the  garment,  and  that  of  the  shriveled  and 
diseased  skin  it  conceals.  We  make  our  feluccas  glittering 
and  fine  with  paint,  when  their  timbers  work  the  most,  and 
when  the  treacherous  planks  are  ready  to  let  in  the  sea  to 
drown  us.” 

“  Thou  hast  the  philosophy  of  it,  young  man,  and  hast 
uttered  a  biting  truth,  for  those  who  waste  their  prime  in 
chasing  a  phantom.  Thou  hast  well  bethought  thee  of 
these  matters,  for,  if  content  with  thy  let,  no  palace  of  our 
city  would  make  thee  happier.” 

“  If \  Signore,  is  a  meaning  word  !  Content  is  like  the 
north  star  —  we  seamen  steer  for  it,  while  none  can  ever 
reach  it !  ”  • 

“  Am  I  then  deceived  in  thee,  after  all  ?  Is  thy  seeming 
moderation  only  affected  ;  and  wouldst  thou  be  the  patron 
of  the  bark  in  which  fortune  hath  made  thee  only  a  pas¬ 
senger  ?  ” 

“  And  a  bad  fortune  it  hath  proved,”  returned  Maso, 
laughing.  “  We  appear  fated  to  pass  the  night  in  it,  for,  so 
far  from  seeing  any  signs  of  this  land-breeze  of  which 
Baptiste  has  so  confidently  spoken,  the  air  seems  to  have 
gone  to  sleep  as  well  as  the  crew.  Thou  art  accust<?  med 

5 


66 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


to  this  climate,  reverend  Augustine;  is  it  usual  to  see  so 
deep  a  calm  on  the  Leman  at  this  late  season  ?  ” 

A  question  like  this  was  well  adapted  to  effect  the  speak¬ 
er’s  wish  to  change  the  discourse,  for  it  very  naturally 
directed  the  attention  of  all  present  from  a  subject  that 
was  rather  tolerated  from  idleness  than  interesting  in  itself, 
to  the  different  natural  phenomena  by  which  they  were  sur¬ 
rounded.  The  sunset  had  now  fairly  passed,  and  the  trav¬ 
ellers  were  at  the  witching  moment  that  precedes  the  final 
disappearance  of  the  day.  A  calm  so  deep  rested  on  the 
limpid  lake,  that  it  was  not  easy  to  distinguish  the  line 
which  separated  the  two  elements,  in  those  places  where  the 
blue  of  the  land  was  confounded  with  the  well-known  and 
peculiar  color  of  the  Leman. 

The  precise  position  of  the  Winkelried  was  near  midway 
between  the  shores  of  Yaud  and  those  of  Savoy,  though 
nearer  to  the  first  than  to  the  last.  Not  another  sail 
was  visible  on  the  whole  of  the  watery  expanse,  with  the 
exception  of  one  that  hung  lazily  from  its  yard,  in  a  small 
bark  that  was  pulling  towards  St.  Gingoulph,  bearing  Sa¬ 
voyards  returning  to  their  homes  from  the  other  side  of  the 
lake,  and  which,  in  that  delusive  landscape,  appeared  to 
the  eye  to  be  within  a  stone’s  throw  of  the  base  of  the 
mountain,  though  in  truth  still  a  weary  row  from  the 
land. 

Nature  has  spread  her  work  on  a  scale  so  magnificent  in 
this  sublime  region,  that  ocular  deceptions  of  this  character 
abound,  and  it  requires  time  and  practice  to  judge  of  those 
measurements  which  have  been  rendered  familiar  in  other 
scenes.  In  like  manner  to  the  ba;k  under  the  rocks  of 
Savoy,  there  lay  another,  a  heavy-moulded  boat,  nearly  in 
a  line  with  Villeneuve,  which  seemed  to  float  in  the  air  in¬ 
stead  of  its  proper  element,  and  whose  oars  were  seen  to 
rise  and  fall  beneath  a  high  mound,  that  was  rendered 
shapeless  by  refraction.  This  was  a  craft  bearing  hay  from 
the  meadows  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rhone  to  their  proprie¬ 
tors  in  the  villages  of  the  Swiss  coast.  A  few  light  boats 
were  pulling  about  in  front  of  the  town  of  Yevey,  and  a 
forest  of  low  masts  and  latine  yards,  seen  in  the  hundred 


THE  HEADSMAN.  67 

picturesque  attitudes  peculiar  to  the  rig,  crowded  the  wild 
anchorage  that  is  termed  its  port. 

An  air-line  drawn  from  St.  Saphorin  to  Meillerie,  would 
have  passed  between  the  spars  of  the  Winkelried ;  her  dis¬ 
tance  from  her  haven,  consequently,  a  little  exceeded  a  ma¬ 
rine  league.  This  space  might  readily  have  been  conquered 
in  an  hour  or  two  by  means  of  the  sweeps,  but  for  the  lum¬ 
bered  condition  of  the  decks,  which  would  have  rendered 
their  use  difficult,  and  the  unusual  draught  of  the  bark, 
which  would  have  caused  the  exertion  to  be  painful.  As  it 
has  been  seen,  Baptiste  preferred  waiting  for  the  arrival 
of  the  night-breeze  to  having  recourse  to  an  expedient  so 
toilsome  and  slow. 

We  have  already  said,  that  the  point  just  described  was 
at  the  place  where  the  Leman  fairly  enters  its  eastern  horn, 
and  where  its  shores  possess  their  boldest  and  finest  faces. 
On  the  side  of  Savoy,  the  coast  was  a  sublime  wall  of  rocks, 
here  and  there  clothed  with  chestnuts,  or  indented  with 
ravines  and  dark  glens,  and  naked  and  wild  along  the  whole 
line  of  their  giddy  summits.  The  villages  so  frequently 
mentioned,  and  which  have  become  celebrated  in  these  later 
times  by  the  touch  of  genius,  clung  to  the  uneven  declivities, 
their  lower  dwellings  laved  by  the  lake,  and  their  upper 
confounded  with  the  rugged  faces  of  the  mountains.  Be¬ 
yond  the  limits  of  the  Leman,  the  Alps  shot  up  into  still 
higher  pinnacles,  occasionally  showing  one  of  those  naked 
excrescences  of  granite,  which  rise  for  a  thousand  feet  above 
the  rest  of  the  range — a  trifle  in  the  stupendous  scale  of 
the  vast  piles  —  and  which,  in  the  language  of  the  country, 
are  not  inaptly  termed  Dents,  from  some  fancied  and  plausi¬ 
ble  resemblance  to  human  teeth.  The  verdant  meadows  of 
Noville,  Aigle,  and  Bex  spread  for  leagues  between  these 
snow-capped  barriers,  so  dwindled  to  the  eye,  however,  that 
the  spectator  believed  that  to  be  a  mere  bottom,  which  was, 
in  truth,  a  broad  and  fertile  plain.  Beyond  these  again, 
came  the  celebrated  pass  of  St.  Maurice,  where  the  foaming 
Rhone  dashed  between  two  abutments  of  rock,  as  if  anxious 
to  effect  its  exit  before  the  superincumbent  mountains  could 
come  together,  and  shut  it  out  forever  from  the  inviting 


68 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


basin  to  which  it  was  hurrying  with  a  never-ceasing  din. 
Behind  this  gorge,  so  celebrated  as  the  key  of  the  Valais, 
and  even  of  the  Alps,  in  the  time  of  the  conquerors  of  the 
world,  the  background  took  a  character  of  holy  mystery. 
The  shades  of  evening  lav  thick  in  that  enormous  glen, 
which  was  sufficiently  large  to  contain  a  sovereign  state,  and 
the  dark  piles  of  mountains  beyond  were  seen  in  a  hazy,  con¬ 
fused  array.  The  setting  was  a  gray  boundary  of  rocks,  on 
which  fleecy  clouds  rested,  as  if  tired  with  their  long  and 
high  flight,  and  on  which  the  parting  day  still  lingered  soft 
and  lucid.  One  cone  of  dazzling  white  towered  over  all. 
It  resembled  a  bright  stepping-stone  between  heaven  and 
earth,  the  heat  of  the  hot  sun  falling  innocuously  against  its 
sides,  like  the  cold  and  pure  breast  of  a  virgin  repelling  those 
treacherous  sentiments  which  prove  the  ruin  of  a  shining 
and  glorious  innocence.  Across  the  summit  of  this  brilliant 
and  cloud-like  peak,  which  formed  the  most  distant  object  in 
the  view,  ran  the  imaginary  line  that  divided  Italy  from  the 
regions  of  the  north.  Drawing  nearer,  and  holding  its 
course  on  the  opposite  shore,  the  eye  embraced  the  range  of 
rampart-like  rocks  that  beetle  over  Villeneuve  and  Chillon, 
the  latter  a  snow-white  pile  that  seemed  to  rest  partly  on 
the  land  and  partly  on  the  water.  On  the  vast  debris  of 
the  mountains  clustered  the  hamlets  of  Clarens,  Montreux, 
Chatelard,  and  all  those  other  places,  since  rendered  so 
familiar  to  the  reader  of  fiction  by  the  vivid  pen  of  Rous¬ 
seau.  Above  the  latter  village  the  whole  of  the  savage  and 
rocky  range  receded,  leaving  the  lake-shore  to  vine-clad 
cotes  that  stretch  away  far  to  the  west. 

This  scene,  at  all  times  alluring  and  grand,  was  now  be¬ 
held  under  its  most  favorable  auspices.  The  glare  of  day 
had  deserted  all  that  belonged  to  what  might  be  termed  the 
lower  world,  leaving  in  its  stead  the  mild  hues,  the  pleasing 
shadows,  and  the  varying'  tints  of  twilight.  It  is  true  that 
a  hundred  chalets  dotted  the  Alps,  or  those  mountain  pas¬ 
turages  which  spread  themselves  a  thousand  fathoms  above 
the  Leman,  on  the  foundation  of  rock  that  lay  like  a  wall 
behind  Montreux,  shining  still  with  the  brightness  of  a  bland 
even,  but  all  below  was  fast  catching  the  more  sombre  colors 
of  the  hour. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


69 


As  the  transition  from  day  to  night  grew  more  palpable, 
the  hamlets  of  Savoy  became  gray  and  hazy,  the  shades 
thickened  around  the  bases  of  the  mountains  in  a  manner  to 
render  their  forms  indistinct  and  massive,  and  the  milder 
glory  of  the  scene  was  transferred  to  their  summits.  Seen 
by  sunlight,  these  noble  heights  appeared  a  long  range  of 
naked  granite,  piled  on  a  foundation  of  chestnut-covered 
hills,  and  buttressed  by  a  few  such  salient  spurs  as  are  per¬ 
haps  necessary  to  give  variety  and  agreeable  shadows  to 
their  acclivities.  Their  outlines  were  now  drawn  in  those 
waving  lines  that  the  pencil  of  Raphael  would  have  loved  to 
sketch,  dark,  distinct,  and  appearing  to  be  carved  by  art. 
The  inflected  and  capricious  edges  of  the  rocks  stood  out  in 
high  relief  against  the  background  of  pearly  sky,  resembling 
so  much  ebony  wrought  into  every  fantastic  curvature  that 
a  wild  and  vivid  fancy  could  conceive.  Of  all  the  wonder¬ 
ful  and  imposing  sights  of  this  extraordinary  region,  there  is 
perhaps  none  in  which  there  is  so  exquisite  an  admixture  of 
the  noble,  the  beautiful,  and  bewitching,  as  in  this  view  of 
these  natural  arabesques  of  Savoy,  seen  at  the  solemn  hour 
of  twilight. 

The  Baron  de  Willading  and  his  friends  stood  uncovered, 
in  reverence  of  the  sublime  picture,  which  could  only  come 
from  the  hands  of  the  Creator,  and  with  unalloyed  enjoy¬ 
ment  of  the  bland  tranquillity  of  the  hour.  Exclamations 
of  pleasure  had  escaped  them,  as  the  exhibition  advanced  ; 
for  the  view,  like  the  shifting  of  scenes,  was  in  a  constant 
state  of  transition  under  the  waning  and  changing  light, 
and  each  had  eagerly  pointed  out  to  the  others  some  pecul¬ 
iar  charm  of  the  view.  The  sight  was,  in  sooth,  of  a  na¬ 
ture  to  preclude  selfishness,  no  one  catching  a  glimpse  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  be  shared  by  all.  Vevey,  their  journey, 
the  fleeting  minutes,  and  their  disappointment,  were  all  for¬ 
gotten  in  the  delight  of  witnessing  this  evening  landscape, 
and  the  silence  was  broken  only  to  express  those  feelings 
of  delight  which  had  long  been  uppermost  in  every  bosom. 

“  I  doff  my  beaver  to  thy  Switzerland,  friend  Melchior,” 
cried  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  after  directing  the  attention  of 
Adelheid  to  one  of  the  peaks  of  Savoy,  of  which  he  had 


70 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


just  remarked  that  it  seemed  a  spot  where  an  angel  might 
love  to  light  in  his  visits  to  the  earth  ;  “  if  thou  hast  much 
of  this,  we  of  Italy  must  look  to  it,  or,  by  the  shades  of 
our  fathers  !  we  shall  lose  our  reputation  for  natural  beauty. 
How  is  it,  young  lady  ;  hast  thou  many  of  these  sunsets  at 
Willading?  or  is  this,  after  all,  but  an  exception  to  what 
thou  seest  in  common  —  as  much  a  matter  of  astonishment 
to  thyself,  as,  by  San  F rancesco  !  good  Marcelli,  we  must 
even  own,  it  is  to  thee  and  to  me?” 

Adelheid  laughed  at  the  old  noble’s  good-humored  rhap¬ 
sody,  but.  much  as  she  loved  her  native  land,  she  could  not 
pervert  the  truth  by  pretending  that  the  sight  was  one  to  be 
often  met  with. 

“If  we  have  not  this,  however,  we  have  our  glaciers,  our 
lakes,  our  cottages,  our  chalets,  our  Oberland,  and  such 
glens  as  have  an  eternal  twilight  of  their  own.” 

“  Aye,  my  true-hearted  and  pretty  Swiss,  this  is  well  for 
thee  who  wilt  affirm  that  a  drop  of  thy  snow-water  is  worth 
a  thousand  limpid  springs,  or  thou  art  not  the  true  child  of 
old  Melchior  de  Willading ;  but  it  is  lost  on  the  cooler 
head  of  one  who  has  seen  other  lands.  Father  Xavier, 
thou  art  a  neutral,  for  thy  dwelling  is  on  the  dividing  ridge 
between  the  two  countries,  and  I  appeal  to  thee  to  know  if 
these  Helvetians  have  much  of  this  quality  of  evening  ?  ” 

The  worthy  monk  met  the  question  in  the  spirit  with 
which  it  was  asked,  for  the  elasticity  of  the  air,  and  the 
heavenly  tranquillity  and  bewitching  loveliness  of  the  hour, 
well  disposed  him  to  be  joyous. 

“  To  maintain  my  character  as  an  impartial  judge,”  he 
answered,  “  I  will  say  that  each  region  has  its  own  advan¬ 
tages.  If  Switzerland  is  the  most  wonderful  and  imposing, 
Italy  is  the  most  winning.  The  latter  leaves  more  durable 
impressions,  and  is  more  fondly  cherished.  One  strikes  the 
senses,  but  the  other  slowly  winds  its  way  into  the  affec¬ 
tions  ;  and  he  who  has  freely  vented  his  admiration  in  ex¬ 
clamations  and  epithets  in  one,  will,  in  the  end,  want  lan¬ 
guage  to  express  all  the  secret  longings,  the  fond  recollec¬ 
tions,  the  deep  repinings,  that  he  retains  for  the  other.” 

“  Fairly  reasoned,  friend  Melchior,  and  like  an  able  um 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


71 


pire,  leaving  to  each  his  share  of  consolation  and  vanity. 
Herr  Muller,  dost  thou  agree  in  a  decision  that  gives  thy 
much-vaunted  Switzerland  so  formidable  a  rival  ?  ” 

“  Signore,”  answered  the  meek  traveller,  “  I  see  enough 
to  admire  and  love,  in  both,  as  is  always  the  fact  with  that 
which  God  hath  formed.  This  is  a  glorious  world  for  the 
happy,  and  most  might  be  so,  could  they  summon  courage 
to  be  innocent.” 

“  The  good  Augustine  will  tell  thee  that  this  bears  hard 
on  certain  points  of  theology,  in  which  our  common  nature 
is  treated  with  but  indifferent  respect.  He  that  would  con¬ 
tinue  innocent  must  struggle  hard  with  his  propensities.” 

The  stranger  was  thoughtful,  and  Sigismund,  whose  eye 
had  been  earnestly  riveted  on  his  face,  thought  that  it  de¬ 
noted  more  of  peace  than  usual. 

“  Signore,”  rejoined  the  Herr  Muller,  when  time  had  been 
given  for  reflection,  u  I  believe  it  is  good  for  us  to  know 
unhappiness.  He  that  is  permitted  too  much  of  his  own 
will  gets  to  be  headstrong,  and,  like  the  overfed  bullock, 
difficult  to  be  managed ;  whereas,  he  who  lives  under  the 
displeasure  of  his  fellow-creatures  is  driven  to  look  closely 
into  himself,  and  comes,  at  last,  to  chasten  his  spirit  by  de¬ 
tecting  its  faults.” 

“  Art  thou  a  follower  of  Calvin  ?  ”  demanded  the  Augus¬ 
tine  suddenly,  surprised  to  hear  opinions  so  healthful  in  the 
mouth  of  a  dissenter  from  the  true  Church. 

“  Father,  I  belong  neither  to  Rome  nor  to  the  religion  of 
Geneva.  I  am  a  humble  worshipper  of  God,  and  a  be¬ 
liever  in  the  blessed  mediation  of  his  holy  Son.” 

“  How  !  Where  dost  thou  find  such  sentiments  out  of 
the  pale  of  the  Church  ?  ” 

“  In  mine  own  heart.  This  is  my  temple,  holy  Augus¬ 
tine,  and  I  never  enter  it  without  adoration  for  its  Almighty 
founder.  A  cloud  was  over  the  roof  of  my  father  at  my 
birth,  and  I  have  not  been  permitted  to  mingle  much  with 
men ;  but  the  solitude  of  my  life  has  driven  me  to  study  my 
own  nature,  which  I  hope  has  become  none  the  worse  for 
the  examination.  I  know  I  am  an  unworthy  and  sinful 
man,  and  I  hope  others  are  as  much  better  than  I  as  thffr 
opinions'  of  themselves  would  give  reason  to  think.” 


72 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  words  of  the  Herr  Muller,  which  lost  none  of  their 
weight  by  his  unaffected  and  quiet  manner,  excited  curiosity. 
At  first,  most  of  the  listeners  were  disposed  to  believe  him 
one  of  those  exaggerated  spirits  who  exalt  themselves  by  a 
pretended  self-abasement,  but  his  natural,  quiet,  and  thought¬ 
ful  deportment  soon  produced  a  more  favorable  opinion. 
There  was  a  habit  of  reflection,  a  retreating  inward  look 
about  his  eye,  that  revealed  the  character  of  one  long  and 
truly  accustomed  to  look  more  at  himself  than  at  others 
and  which  wrought  singularly  in  his  behalf. 

“  We  may  not  all  have  these  flattering  opinions  of  our¬ 
selves  that  thy  words  would  seem  to  imply,  Signor  Muller,” 
observed  the  Genoese,  his  tone  changing  to  one  better  suited 
to  soothe  the  feelings  of  the  person  addressed,  while  a  shade 
insensibly  stole  over  his  own  venerable  features  ;  “  neither 
are  all  at  peace  that  so  seem.  If  it  will  be  any  consolation  to 
thee  to  know  that  others  are  probably  no  more  happy  than 
thyself,  I  will  add  that  I  have  known  much  pain,  and  that 
too,  amid  circumstances  which  most  would  deem  fortunate, 
and  which  I  fear  a  great  majority  of  mankind  might  be  dis¬ 
posed  to  envy.” 

“  I  should  be  base  indeed  to  seek  consolation  in  such  a 
source !  I  do  not  complain,  Signore,  though  my  whole  life 
has  so  passed  that  I  can  hardly  say  that  I  enjoy  it.  It  is 
not  easy  to  smile  when  we  know  that  all  frown  upon  us ; 
else  could  I  be  content.  As  it  is,  I  rather  feel  than  repine.” 

“  This  is  a  most  singular  condition  of  the  mind,”  whis¬ 
pered  Adelheid  to  young  Sigismund  ;  for  both  had  been 
deeply  attentive  listeners  to  the  calm  but  strong  language 
of  the  Herr  Muller.  The  young  man  did  not  answer,  and 
his  fair  companion  saw  with  surprise  that  he  was  pale,  and 
with  difficulty  noticed  her  remark  with  a  smile. 

“  The  frowns  of  men,  my  son,”  observed  the  monk,  “  are 
usually  reserved  for  those  who  offend  their  ordinances.  The 
latter  may  not  be  always  just,  but  there  is  a  common  senti¬ 
ment  which  refuses  to  visit  innocence,  even  in  the  narrow 
sense  in  which  we  understand  the  word,  with  undeserved 
displeasure.” 

The  Herr  Muller  looked  earnestly  at  the  Augustine,  and 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


78 


he  seemed  about  to  answer  ;  but,  checking  the  impulse,  he 
bowed  in  submission.  At  the  same  time,  a  wild,  painful 
smile  gleamed  on  his  face. 

“  I  agree  with  thee,  good  canon,”  rejoined  the  simple- 
minded  baron  ;  “  we  are  much  addicted  to  quarreling  with 
the  world,  but,  after  all,  when  we  look  closely  into  the  mat¬ 
ter,  it  will  commonly  be  found  that  the  cause  of  our  griev- 
*  ances  exists  in  ourselves.” 

“  Is  there  no  Providence,  father  ?  ”  exclaimed  Adelheid, 
a  little  reproachfully  for  one  of  her  respectful  habits  and 
great  filial  tenderness.  “  Can  we  recall  the  dead  to  life,  or 
keep  those  quick  whom  God  is  pleased  to  destroy  ?  ” 

“  Thou  hast  me,  girl  !  there  is  a  truth  in  this  that  no 
bereaved  parent  can  deny  !  ” 

This  remark  produced  an  embarrassed  pause,  during 
which  the  Herr  Muller  gazed  furtively  about  him,  looking 
from  the  face  of  one  to  that  of  another,  as  if  seeking  for 
some  countenance  on  which  he  could  rely.  But  he  turned 
away  to  the  view  of  those  hills  which  had  been  so  curiously 
wrought  by  the  finger  of  the  Almighty,  and  seemed  to  lose 
himself  in  their  contemplation. 

“  This  is  some  spirit  that  has  been  bruised  by  early  indis¬ 
cretion,”  said  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  in  a  low  voice,  “  and 
whose  repentance  is  strangely  mixed  with  resignation.  I 
know  not  whether  such  a  man  is  most  to  be  envied  or  Ditied. 

JL 

There  is  a  fearful  mixture  of  resignation  and  of  suffering  in 
his  air.” 

u  He  has  not  the  mien  of  a  stabber  or  a  knave,”  answered 
the  baron.  “  If  he  comes  truly  of  the  Mullers  of  the 
Emmen  Thai,  or  even  of  those  of  Entlibuch,  I  should  know 
something  of  his  history.  They  are  warm  burghers,  and 
mostly  of  fair  name.  It  is  true,  that  in  my  youth  one  of 
the  family  got  out  of  favor  with  the  councils,  on  account  of 
some  concealment  of  their  lawful  claims  in  the  wray  of 
revenue,  but  the  man  made  an  atonement  that  was  deemed 
sufficient  in  amount,  and  the  matter  was  forgotten.  It  is 
not  usual,  Herr  Muller,  to  meet  citizens  in  our  canton  who 
go  for  neither  Rome  nor  Calvin.” 

“  It  is  not  usual,  mein  Herr,  to  meet  men  placed  as  I  am. 


74 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Neither  Rome  nor  Calvin  is  sufficient  for  me  ;  I  have  need 
of  God  !  ” 

“  I  fear  thou  hast  taken  life  ?  ” 

The  stranger  bowed,  and  his  face  grew  livid,  seemingly 
with  the  intensity  of  his  own  thoughts.  Melchior  de 
Willading  so  disliked  the  expression,  that  he  turned  away 
his  eyes  in  uneasiness.  The  other  glanced  frequently  at 
the  forward  part  of  the  bark,  and  he  seemed  struggling  hard 
to  speak,  but,  for  some  strong  reason,  unable  to  effect  his 
purpose.  Uncovering  himself,  at  length,  he  said  steadily, 
as  if  superior  to  shame,  while  he  fully  felt  the  import  of  his 
communication,  but  in  a  voice  that  was  cautiously  sup¬ 
pressed,  — 

“  I  am  Balthazar,  of  your  canton,  Herr  Baron,  and  I 
pray  your  powerful  succor,  should  those  untamed  spirits  on 
the  forecastle  come  to  discover  the  truth.  My  blood  hath 
been  made  to  curdle  to-day  whilst  listening  to  their  heart¬ 
less  threats  and  terrible  maledictions.  Without  this  fear,  I 
should  have  kept  my  secret,  —  for,  God  knows,  I  am  not 
proud  of  my  office  I  ” 

The  general  and  sudden  surprise,  accompanied  as  it  was 
by  a  common  movement  of  aversion,  induced  the  Signor 
Grimaldi  to  demand  the  reason. 

“  Thy  name  is  not  in  much  favor  apparently,  Herr  Miil- 
ler,  or  Herr  Balthazar,  whichever  it  is  thy  pleasure  to  be 
called,”  observed  the  Genoese,  casting  a  quick  glance  around 
the  circle.  “  There  is  some  mystery  in  it,  that  to  me  needs 
explanation.” 

“  Signore,  I  am  the  headsman  of  Berne.” 

Though  long  schooled  in  the  polished  habits  of  his  high 
condition,  which  taught  him  ordinarily  to  repress  strong 
emotions,  the  Signor  Grimaldi  could  not  conceal  the  start 
which  this  unexpected  announcement  produced,  for  he  had 
not  escaped  the  usual  prejudices  of  men. 

u  Truly,  we  have  been  fortunate  in  our  associate,  Mel¬ 
chior,”  he  said  dryly,  turning  without  ceremony  from  the 
man  whose  modest,  quiet  mien  had  lately  interested  him 
so  much,  but  whose  manner  he  now  took  to  be  assumed,  — 
few  pausing  to  investigate  the  motives  of  those  who  aie 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


75 


condemned  of  opinion ;  “  here  has  been  much  excellent 
and  useful  morality  thrown  away  upon  a  very  unworthy 
subject !  ” 

The  baron  received  the  intelligence  of  the  real  name  of 
their  travelling  companion  with  less  feeling.  He  had  been 
greatly  puzzled  to  account  for  the  singular  language  he  had 
heard,  and  he  found  relief  in  so  brief  a  solution  of  the 
difficulty. 

“  The  pretended  name,  after  all,  then,  is  only  a  cloak  to 
conceal  the  truth  !  I  knew  the  Mullers  of  the  Emmen  Thai 
so  well,  that  I  had  great  difficulty  in  fitting  the  character 
which  the  honest  man  gave  of  himself  fairly  upon  any  one 
of  them  all.  But  it  is  now  clear  enough,  and  doubtless 
Balthazar  has  no  great  reason  to  be  proud  of  the  turn  which 
Fortune  has  played  his  family  in  making  them  executioners.” 

“  Is  the  office  hereditary  ?  ”  demanded  the  Genoese, 
quickly. 

“  It  is.  Thou  knowest  that  we  of  Berne  have  great 
respect  for  ancient  usages.  He  that  is  born  to  the  biir- 
gerschaft  will  die  in  the  exercise  of  his  rights,  and  he  that 
is  born  out  of  its  venerable  pale  must  be  satisfied  to  live  out 
of  it,  unless  he  has  gold  or  favor.  Our  institutions  are  a 
hint  from  nature,  which  leaves  men  as  they  are  created,  pre¬ 
serving  the  order  and  harmony  of  society  by  venerable  and 
well-defined  laws,  as  is  wise  and  necessary.  In  nature,  he 
that  is  born  strong  remains  strong,  and  he  that  has  little 
force  must  be  content  with  his  feebleness.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  looked  like  one  who  felt  contrition. 

“  Art  thou,  in  truth,  an  hereditary  executioner  ?  ”  he 
asked,  addressing  Balthazar  himself. 

“  Signore,  I  am  ;  else  would  hand  of  mine  have  never 
taken  life.  ’Tis  a  hard  duty  to  perform,  even  under  the 
obligations  and  penalties  of  the  law  ;  otherwise,  it  were 
accursed  !  ” 

“  Thy  fathers  deemed  it  a  privilege  !  ” 

‘‘We  suffer  for  their  error;  Signore,  the  sins  of  the 
fathers,  in  our  case,  have  indeed  been  visited  on  the  children 
to  the  latest  generations.” 

The  countenance  of  the  Genoese  grew  brighter,  and  his 
voice  resumed  the  polished  tones  in  which  he  usually  spoke. 


7G 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Here  has  been  some  injustice,  of  a  certainty,”  he  said, 
“  or  one  of  thy  appearance  would  not  be  found  in  this  cruel 
position.  Depend  on  our  authority  to  protect  thee,  should 
the  danger  thou  seemest  to  apprehend  really  occur.  Still 
the  laws  must  be  respected,  though  not  always  of  the  rigid 
impartiality  that  we  might  wish.  Thou  hast  owned  the 
imperfection  of  human  nature,  and  it  is  not  wonderful  that 
its  work  should  have  flaws.” 

“  I  complain  not  now  of  the  usage,  which  to  me  has  be¬ 
come  habit,  but  I  dread  the  untamed  fury  of  these  igno¬ 
rant  and  credulous  men,  who  have  taken  a  wild  fancy  that 
my  presence  might  bring  a  curse  upon  the  bark  ” 

There  are  accidental  situations  which  contain  more 
healthful  morals  than  can  be  drawn  from  a  thousand  in¬ 
genious  and  plausible  homilies,  and  in  which  facts,  in  their 
naked  simplicity,  are  far  more  eloquent  than  any  meaning 
that  can  be  conveyed  by  words.  Such  was  the  case  with 
this  meek  and  unexpected  appeal  of  Balthazar.  All  who 
heard  him  saw  his  situation  under  very  different  colors  from 
those  in  which  it  would  have  been  regarded  had  the  sub¬ 
ject  presented  itself  under  ordinary  circumstances.  A  com¬ 
mon  and  painful  sentiment  attested  strongly  against  the  op¬ 
pression  that  had  given  birth  to  his  wrongs,  and  the  good 
Melchior  de  Willading  himself  wondered  how  a  case  of  this 
striking  injustice  could  have  arisen  under  the  laws  of  Berne. 


THE  HEADSMAN, 


77 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Methougbt  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks, 

A  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnawed  upon; 

Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearls, 

Inestimable  stones,  unvalued  jewels, 

All  scattered  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Richard  III. 

The  flitting  twilight  was  now  on  the  wane,  and  the 
shades  of  evening  were  gathering  fast  over  the  deep  basin 
of  the  lake.  The  figure  of  Maso,  as  he  continued  to  pace 
his  elevated  platform,  was  drawn  dark  and  distinct  against 
the  southern  sky,  in  which  some  of  the  last  rays  of  the  sun 
still  lingered,  but  objects  on  both  shores  were  getting  to  be 
confounded  with  the  shapeless  masses  of  the  mountains. 
Here  and  there  a  pale  star  peeped  out,  though  most  of  the 
vault  that  stretched  across  the  confined  horizon  was  shut  in 
by  dusky  clouds.  A  streak  of  dull,  unnatural  light  was 
seen  in  the  quarter  which  lay  above  the  meadows  of  the 
Rhone,  and  nearly  in  a  direction  with  the  peak  of  Mont 
Blanc,  which,  though  not  visible  from  this  portion  of  the 
Leman,  was  known  to  lie  behind  the  ramparts  of  Savoy, 
like  a  monarch  of  the  hills  entrenched  in  his  citadel  of  rocks 
and  ice. 

The  change,  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  the  unpleasant 
reflections  left  by  the  short  dialogue  with  Balthazar,  pro¬ 
duced  a  strong  and  common  desire  to  see  the  end  of  a  navi¬ 
gation  that  was  beginning  to  be  irksome.  Those  objects 
which  had  lately  yielded  so  much  and  so  pure  a  delight 
were  now  getting  to  be  black  and  menacing,  and  the  very 
sublimity  of  the  scale  on  which  Nature  had  here  thrown 
together  her  elements  was  an  additional  source  of  uncer- 
tainty  and  alarm.  Those  fairy-like,  softly-delineated,  natu¬ 
ral  arabesques,  which  had  so  lately  been  dwelt  upon  with 


78 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


rapture,  were  now  converted  into  dreary  crags  that  seemed 
to  beetle  above  the  helpless  bark,  giving  unpleasant  admo¬ 
nitions  of  the  savage  and  inhospitable  properties  of  their 
iron-bound  bases,  which  were  known  to  prove  destructive 
to  all  who  were  cast  against  them  while  the  elements  were 
in  disorder. 

These  changes  in  the  character  of  the  scene,  which  in 
some  respects  began  to  take  the  aspect  of  omens,  were  un¬ 
easily  witnessed  by  all  in  the  stern  of  the  bark,  though  the 
careless  laughter,  the  rude  joke,  and  the  noisy  cries,  which 
from  time  to  time  arose  on  the  forecastle,  sufficiently 
showed  that  the  careless  spirits  it  held  were  still  indulging 
in  the  coarse  enjoyments  most  suited  to  their  habits.  One 
individual,  however,  was  seen  stealing  from  the  crowd,  and 
establishing  himself  on  the  pile  of  freight,  as  if  he  had  a 
mind  more  addicted  to  reflection,  and  less  disposed  to  un¬ 
meaning  revelry,  than  most  of  those  whom  he  had  just 
abandoned.  This  was  the  Westphalian  student,  who,  wea¬ 
ried  with  amusements  that  were  below  the  level  of  his  ac¬ 
quirements,  and  suddenly  struck  with  the  imposing  aspect 
of  the  lake  and  the  mountains,  had  stolen  apart  to  muse  on 
his  distant  home  and  the  beings  most  dear  to  him,  under  an 
excitement  that  suited  those  morbid  sensibilities  which  he 
had  long  encouraged  by  a  very  subtle  metaphysical  system 
of  philosophy.  Until  now,  Maso  had  paced  his  lofty  post 
with  his  eye  fixed  chiefly  on  the  heavens  in  the  direction  of 
Mont  Blanc,  occasionally  turning  it,  however,  over  the  mo¬ 
tionless  bulk  of  the  bark,  but  when  the  student  placed  him¬ 
self  across  his  path,  he  stopped  and  smiled  at  the  abstracted 
air  and  riveted  regard  with  which  the  youth  gazed  at  a 
star. 

“  Art  thou  an  astronomer,  that  thou  lookest  so  closely  at 
yonder  shining  world  ?  ”  demanded  11  Maledetto,  with  the 
superiority  that  the  mariner  afloat  is  wont  successfully  to 
assume  over  the  unhappy  wight  of  a  landsman,  who  is  very 
liable  to  admit  his  own  impotency  on  the  novel  and  danger¬ 
ous  element ;  “  the  astrologer  himself  would  not  study  it 
more  deeply.” 

“  This  is  the  hour  agreed  upon  between  me  and  one  that 


THE  HEADSMAN.  79 

1  love,  to  bring  the  unseen  principle  of  our  spirits  together, 
by  communing  through  its  medium.” 

“  I  have  heard  of  such  means  of  intercourse.  Dost  see 
more  than  others  by  reason  of  such  an  assistant  ?  ” 

“  I  see  the  object  which  is  gazed  upon,  at  this  moment, 
by  kind  blue  eyes  that  have  often  looked  upon  me  in  affec¬ 
tion.  When  we  are  in  a  strange  land,  and  in  a  fearful  situa¬ 
tion,  such  a  communion  has  its  pleasures  !  ” 

Maso  laid  his  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  student, 
which  he  pressed  with  the  force  of  a  vise. 

“  Thou  art  right,”  he  said  moodily  ;  u  make  the  most  of 
thy  friendships,  and  if  there  are  any  that  love  thee,  tighten 
the  knot  by  all  the  means  thou  hast.  None  know  the  curse 
of  being  deserted  in  this  selfish  and  cruel  battle  of  interest 
better  than  I !  Be  not  ashamed  of  thy  star,  but  gaze  at  it 
till  thy  eye-strings  crack.  See  the  bright  eyes  of  her  that 
/..oves  thee  in  its  twinkling,  her  constancy  in  its  lustre,  and 
her  melancholy  in  its  sadness ;  lose  not  the  happy  mo¬ 
ments,  for  there  will  soon  be  a  dark  curtain  to  shut  out  its 
view.” 

The  Westphalian  was  struck  with  the  singular  energy  as 
well  as  with  the  poetry  of  the  mariner,  and  he  distrusted 
the  obvious  allusion  to  the  clouds,  which  were  in  fact  fast 
covering  the  vault  above  their  heads. 

“  Dost  thou  like  the  night  ?  ”  he  demanded,  turning  from 
his  star  in  doubt. 

“  It  might  be  fairer.  This  is  a  wild  region,  and  your 
cold  Swiss  lakes  sometimes  become  too  hot  for  the  stoutest 
seaman’s  heart.  Gaze  at  thy  star,  young  man,  while  thou 
mayest,  and  bethink  thee  of  the  maiden  thou  lovest,  and  of 
all  her  kindness  ;  we  are  on  a  crazy  water,  and  pleasant 
thoughts  should,  not  be  lightly  thrown  away.” 

Maso  walked  away,  leaving  the  student  alarmed,  uneasy 
at  he  knew  not  what,  and  yet  bent  with  childish  eagerness 
on  regarding  the  little  luminary  that  occasionally  was  still 
seen  wading  among  volumes  of  vapor.  At  this  instant  a 
shout  of  •  unmeaning,  clamorous  merriment  arose  on  the  fore¬ 
castle. 

II  Maledetto  did  not  remain  any  longer  on  the  pile,  but 


80 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


abandoning  it  to  the  new  occupant,  he  descended  among  the 
silent,  thoughtful  party  who  were  in  possession  of  the 
cleared  space  near  the  stern.  It  was  now  so  dark  that 
some  little  attention  was  necessary  to  distinguish  faces,  even 
at  trilling  distances.  But  by  means  of  moving  among  these 
privileged  persons  with  great  coolness  and  seeming  indiffer¬ 
ence,  he  soon  succeeded  in  placing  himself  near  the  Geno¬ 
ese  and  the  Augustine. 

“  Signore,”  he  said  in  Italian,  raising  his  cap  to  the 
former  with  the  same  marked  respect  as  before,  though  it 
was  evidently  no  easy  matter  to  impress  him  with  the  def¬ 
erence  that  the  obscure  usually  feel  for  the  great,  “  this  is 
likely  to  prove  an  unfortunate  end  to  a  voyage  that  began 
with  so  fair  appearances.  I  could  wish  that  your  eccellenza, 
with  all  this  noble  and  fair  company,  was  safely  landed  in 
the  town  of  Vevey.” 

“  Dost  thou  mean  that  we  have  cause  to  fear  more  than 
delay  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  the  mariner’s  life  is  one  of  unequal  chances : 
now  he  floats  in  a  lazy  calm,  and  presently  he  is  tossed  be¬ 
tween  heaven  and  earth,  in  a  way  to  make  the  stoutest 
heart  sick.  My  knowledge  of  these  waters  is  not  great, 
but  there  are  signs  making  themselves  seen  in  the  sky,  here 
above  the  peak  that  lies  in  the  direction  of  Mont  Blanc, 
that  would  trouble  me,  were  this  our  own  blue  but  treach¬ 
erous  Mediterranean.” 

“  What  thinkest  thou  of  this,  father  ?  a  long  residence 
in  the  Alps  must  have  given  thee  some  insight  into  their 
storms.” 

The  Augustine  had  been  grave  and  thoughtful  from  the 
moment  that  he  ceased  to  converse  with  Balthazar.  He, 
too,  had  been  struck  with  the  omens  ;  and  long  used  to 
study  the  changes  of  the  weather,  in  a  region  where  the 
elements  sometimes  work  their  will  on  a  scale  commensurate 
with  the  grandeur  of  the  mountains,  his  thoughts  had  been 
anxiously  recurring  to  the  comforts  and  security  of  some 
of  those  hospitable  roofs  in  the  city  to  which  they  were 
bound,  and  which  were  always  ready  to  receive  the  clavier 
of  St.  Bernard,  in  return  for  the  services  and  self-denial  of 
his  brotherhood. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


81 


44  With  Maso,  I  could  wish  we  were  safely  landed,”  an¬ 
swered  the  <mod  canon  ;  *4  the  intense  heat  that  a  day  like 
this  creates  in  our  valleys  and  on  the  lakes  so  weakens 
the  substrata,  or  foundations  of  air,  that  the  cold  masses 
which  collect  around  the  glaciers  sometimes  descend  like 
avalanches  from  their  heights  to  fill  the  vacuum.  The 
shock  is  fearful,  even  to  those  who  meet  it  in  the  glens  and 
among  the  rocks,  but  the  plunge  of  such  a  column  of  air 
upon  one  of  the  lakes  is  certain  to  be  terrible.” 

44  And  thou  thinkest  there  is  danger  of  one  of  these  phe¬ 
nomena  at  present  ?  ” 

14 1  know  not ;  but  I  would  we  were  housed  !  That  un¬ 
natural  light  above,  and  this  deep  tranquillity  below,  which 
surpasses  an  ordinary  calm,  have  already  driven  me  to  my 
aves.” 

44  The  reverend  Augustine  speaks  like  a  bookman,  and 
one  who  has  passed  his  time  up  in  his  mountain-convent  in 
study  and  reflection,”  rejoined  Maso  ;  44  whereas,  the  rea¬ 
sons  I  have  to  offer  savor  more  of  the  seaman’s  practice. 
A  calm  like  this  will  be  followed,  sooner  or  later,  by  a  com¬ 
motion  in  the  atmosphere.  I  like  not  the  absence  of  the 
breeze  from  the  land,  on  which  Baptiste  counted  so  surely, 
and,  taking  that  symptom  with  the  signs  of  yonder  hot  sky, 
I  look  soon  to  see  this  extraordinary  quiet  displaced  by 
some  violent  struggle  among  the  winds.  Nettuno,  too,  my 
faithful  dog,  has  given  notice  by  the  manner  in  which  he 
snuffs  the  air,  that  we  are  not  to  pass  the  night  in  this 
motionless  condition.” 

44  I  had  hoped  ere  this  to  be  quietly  in  our  haven. 
What  means  yonder  bright  light  ?  Is  it  a  star  in  the 
heavens,  or  does  it  merely  lie  against  the  side  of  the  huge 
mountain  ?  ” 

44  There  shines  old  Roger  de  Blonay !  ”  cried  the  baron 
heartily,  44  he  knows  of  our  being  in  the  bark,  and  he  has 
fired  his  beacon  that  we  may  steer  by  its  light.” 

The  conjecture  seemed  probable,  for  while  the  day  re 
mained,  the  castle  of  Blonay,  seated  on  the  bosom  of  the 
mountain  that  shelters  Vevey  to  the  northeast,  had  been 
plainly  visible.  It  had  been  much  admired,  a  pleasing  ob- 
6 


82 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ject  in  a  view  that  was  so  richly  studded  with  hamlets  and 
castles,  and  Adelheid  had  pointed  it  out  to  Sigismund  as 
the  immediate  goal  of  her  journey.  The  lord  of  Blonay 
being  apprised  of  the  intended  visit,  nothing  was  more 
probable  than  that  he,  an  old  and  tried  friend  of  Melchior 
de  Willading:s,  should  show  this  sign  of  impatience  ;  partly 
in  compliment  to  those  whom  he  expected,  and  partly  as  a 
signal  that  might  be  really  useful  to  those  who  navigated 
the  Leman  in  a  night  that  threatened  so  much  murky  ob¬ 
scurity. 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  rightly  deemed  the  circumstances 
grave,  and,  calling  to  him  his  friend  and  Sigismund,  he  com¬ 
municated  the  apprehensions  of  the  monk  and  Maso. 
A  braver  man  than  Melchior  de  Willading  did  not  dwell  in 
all  Switzerland,  but  he  did  not  hear  the  gloomy  predictions 
of  the  Genoese  without  shaking  in  every  limb. 

“  My  poor,  enfeebled  Adelheid  !  ”  he  said,  yielding  to  a 
father’s  tenderness  :  “  what  will  become  of  this  frail  plant, 
if  exposed  to  a  tempest  in  an  unsheltered  bark  ?  ” 

“  She  will  be  with  her  father,  and  with  her  father’s 
friend,”  answered  the  maiden  herself ;  for  the  narrow  lim¬ 
its  to  which  they  were  necessarily  confined,  and  the  sudden 
burst  of  feeling  in  the  parent,  which  had  rendered  him  in¬ 
cautious  in  pitching  his  voice,  made  her  the  mistress  of  the 
cause  of  alarm.  “  I  have  heard  enough  of  what  the  good 
Father  Xavier  and  this  mariner  have  said,  to  know  that 
we  are  in  a  situation  that  might  be  better  ;  but  am  I  not 
with  tried  friends  ?  I  know  already  what  the  Herr  Sigis¬ 
mund  can  do  in  behalf  of  my  life,  and  come  what  may,  we 
have  all  a  beneficent  guardian  in  One,  who  will  not  leave 
any  of  us  to  perish  without  remembering  we  are  his  chil¬ 
dren.” 

“  This  girl  shames  us  all,”  said  the  Signor  Grimaldi  ; 
“but  it  is  often  thus  with  these  fragile  beings,  who  rise  the 
firmest  and  noblest  in  moments  when  prouder  man  begins 
to  despair.  They  put  their  trust  in  God,  who  is  a  prop  to 
sustain  even  those  who  are  feebler  than  our  gentle  Adel¬ 
heid.  But  we  will  not  exaggerate  the  causes  of  apprehen¬ 
sion,  which,  after  all,  may  pass  away  like  many  other 


THE  HEADSMAN.  83 

threatening  daugers,  and  leave  us  hours  of  felicitation  and 
laughter  in  return  for  a  few  minutes  of  fright.” 

“  Say,  rather  of  thanksgiving,”  observed  the  clavier, 
“  for  the  aspect  of  the  heavens  is  getting  to  be  fearfully 
solemn.  Thou,  who  art  a  mariner  —  hast  thou  nothing  to 
suggest  ?  ” 

“  We  have  the  simple  expedient  of  our  sweeps,  father ; 
but,  after  neglecting  their  use  so  long,  it  is  now  too  late  to 
have  recourse  to  them.  We  could  not  reach  Vevey  by 
such  means,  with  this  bark  loaded  to  the  water’s  edge,  be¬ 
fore  the  night  would  change,  and  the  water  once  fairly  in 
motion,  they  could  not  be  used  at  all.” 

“  But  we  have  our  sails,”  put  in  the  Genoese  ;  “  they  at 
least  may  do  us  good  service  wdien  the  wind  shall  come.” 

Maso  shook  his  head,  but  he  made  no  answer.  After  a 
brief  pause,  in  which  he  seemed  to  study  the  heavens  still 
more  closely,  he  went  to  the  spot  where  the  patron  yet  lay 
lost  in  sleep,  and  shook  him  rudely.  “  Ho !  Baptiste ! 
awake  !  there  is  need  here  of  thy  counsel  and  of  thy  com¬ 
mands.” 

The  drowsy  owner  of  the  bark  rubbed  his  eyes,  and 
slowly  regained  the  use  of  his  faculties. 

u  There  is  not  a  breath  of  wind,”  he  muttered ;  “  why 
didst  awake  me,  Maso  ?  One  that  hath  led  thy  life  should 
know  that  sleep  is  sweet  to  those  who  toil.” 

“  Aye,  ’tis  their  advantage  over  the  pampered  and  idle. 
Look  at  the  heavens,  man,  and  let  us  know  what  thou 
thinkest  of  their  appearance.  Is  there  the  stuff  in  thy 
Winkelried  to  ride  out  the  storm  like  this  we  may  have  to 
encounter  ?  ” 

“  Thou  talkest  like  a  foolish  quean  that  has  been  fright¬ 
ened  by  the  fluttering  of  her  own  poultry.  The  lake  was 
never  more  calm,  or  the  bark  in  greater  safety.” 

“  Dost  see  yonder  bright  light ;  here,  over  the  tower  of 
thy  Vdvey  church  ?  ” 

“  Aye,  ’tis  a  gallant  star  !  and  a  fair  sign  for  the  mar- 

• 

iner. 

“  Fool,  ’tis  a  hot  flame  in  Roger  de  Blonay’s  beacon. 
They  begin  to  see  that  we  are  in  danger  on  the  shore,  and 


84 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


they  cast  out  their  signals  to  give  us  notice  to  be  active. 
They  think  us  bestirring  ourselves  like  stout  men,  and  those 
used  to  the  water,  while,  in  truth,  we  are  as  undisturbed  as 
if  the  bark  were  a  rock  that  might  laugh  at  the  Leman  and 
its  waves.  The  man  is  benumbed,”  continued  Maso,  turn¬ 
ing  away  towards  the  anxious  listeners  ;  “  he  will  not  see 
that  which  is  getting  to  be  but  too  plain  to  all  the  others  in 
his  vessel.” 

Another  idle  and  general  laugh  from  the  forecastle  came 
to  contradict  this  opinion  of  Maso’s,  and  to  prove  how  easy 
it  is  for  the  ignorant  to  exist  in  security,  even  on  the  brink 
of  destruction.  This  was  the  moment  when  nature  gave 
the  first  of  those  signals  that  were  intelligible  to  vulgar 
capacities.  The  whole  vault  of  the  heavens  was  now  veiled, 
with  the  exception  of  the  spot  so  often  named,  which  lay 
nearly  above  the  brawling  torrents  of  the  Rhone.  This 
fiery  opening  resembled  a  window  admitting  of  fearful 
glimpses  into  the  dreadful  preparations  that  were  making 
up  among  the  higher  peaks  of  the  Alps.  A  Hash  of  red 
quivering  light  was  emitted,  and  a  distant,  rumbling  rush, 
that  was  not  thunder,  but  rather  resembled  the  wheelings 
of  a  thousand  squadrons  into  line,  followed  the  flash.  The 
forecastle  was  deserted  to  a  man,  and  the  hillock  of  freight 
was  again  darkly  seen  peopled  with  crouching  human 
forms.  Just  then  the  bark,  which  had  so  long  lain  in  a 
state  of  complete  rest,  slowly  and  heavily  raised  its  bows, 
as  if  laboring  under  its  great  and  unusual  burden,  while  a 
sluggish  swell  passed  beneath  its  entire  length,  lifting  the 
whole  mass,  foot  by  foot,  and  passing  away  by  the  stern,  to 
cast  itself  on  the  shores  of  Yaud. 

“  ’Tis  madness  to  waste  the  precious  moments  longer  !  ” 
said  Maso,  hurriedly,  on  whom  this  plain  and  intelligible 
hint  was  not  lost.  “  Signori,  we  must  be  bold  and  prompt, 
or  we  shall  be  overtaken  by  the  tempest  unprepared.  I 
speak  not  for  myself,  since,  by  the  aid  of  this  faithful  dog, 
and  favored  by  my  own  arms,  I  have  always  the  shore  for 
a  hope.  But  there  is  one  in  the  bark  I  would  wish  to 
save,  even  at  some  hazard  to  myself.  Baptiste  is  unnerved 
by  fear,  and  we  must  act  for  ourselves  or  perish  !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


85 


“  What  wo ul (lest  thou  ?  ”  demanded  the  Sffinor  Grimaldi ; 
“  he  that  can  proclaim  the  danger  should  have  some  expe¬ 
dient  to  divert  it !  ” 

“  More  timely  exertion  would  have  given  us  the  resource 
of  ordinary  means  ;  but,  like  those  who  die  in  their  sins,  we 
have  foolishly  wasted  most  precious  minutes.  We  must 
lighten  the  bark,  though  it  cost  the  whole  of  her  freight.” 

A  cry  from  Nicklaus  Wagner  announced  that  the  spirit 
of  avarice  was  still  active  as  ever  in  his  bosom.  Even 
Baptiste,  who  had  lost  all  his  dogmatism  and  his  disposition 
to  command,  under  the  imposing  omens  which  had  now 
made  themselves  apparent  even  to  him,  loudly  joined  in  the 
protest  against  this  waste  of  property.  It  is  rare  that  any 
sudden  and  extreme  proposal,  like  this  of  Maso’s,  meets 
with  a  cpiick  echo  in  the  judgments  of  those  to  whom  the 
necessity  is  unexpectedly  presented.  The  danger  did  not 
seem  sufficiently  imminent  to  have  recourse  to  an  expedient 
so  decided  ;  and,  though  startled  and  aroused,  the  untamed 
spirits  of  those  who  crowded  the  menaced  pile  were  rather 
in  a  state  of  uneasiness,  than  of  that  fierce  excitement  to 
which  they  were  so  capable  of  being  wrought,  and  which 
was  in  some  degree  necessary  to  induce  even  them,  thrift¬ 
less  and  destitute  as  they  were,  to  be  the  agents  of  effecting 
so  great  a  destruction  of  property.  The  project  of  the  cool 
and  calculating  Maso  would  therefore  have  failed  entirely, 
but  for  another  wheeling  of  those  airy  squadrons,  and  a 
second  wave  which  lifted  the  groaning  bark  until  the  loos¬ 
ened  yards  swung  creaking  above  their  heads.  The  canvas 
flapped,  too,  in  the  darkness,  like  some  huge  bird  of  prey 
fluttering  its  feathers  previously  to  taking  wing. 

“  Holy  and  just  Kuler  of  the  land  and  the  sea !  ”  ex¬ 
claimed  the  Augustine,  “  remember  thy  repentant  children, 
and  have  us,  at  this  awful  moment,  in  thy  omnipotent  pro¬ 
tection  !  ” 

“  The  winds  are  come  dowTn,  and  even  the  dumb  lake 
sends  us  the  signal  to  be  ready  !  ”  shouted  Maso.  “  Over¬ 
board  with  the  freight,  if  ye  would  live  !  ” 

A  sudden  heavy  plunge  into  the  water  proved  that  the 
mariner  was  in  earnest.  Notwithstanding  the  imposing  and 


86 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


awful  signs  with  which  they  were  surrounded,  every  in¬ 
dividual  of  the  nameless  herd  bethought  him  of  the  pack 
that  contained  his  own  scanty  worldly  effects,  and  there 
was  a  general  and  quick  movement,  with  a  view  to  secure 
them.  As  each  man  succeeded  in  effecting  his  own  object, 
he  was  led  away  by  that  community  of  feeling  which  rules 
a  multitude.  The  common  rush  was  believed  to  be  with  a 
view  to  succor  Maso,  though  each  man  secretly  knew  the 
falsity  of  the  impression  as  respected  his  own  particular 
case  ;  and  box  after  box  began  to  tumble  into  the  water,  as 
new  and  eager  recruits  lent  themselves  to  the  task.  The 
impulse  was  quickly  imparted  from  one  to  another,  until 
even  young  Sigismund  was  active  in  the  work.  On  these 
slight  accidents  do  the  most  important  results  depend,  when 
the  hot  impulses  that  govern  the  mass  obtain  the  ascendant. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  either  Baptiste  or  Nicklaus 
Wagner  witnessed  the  waste  of  their  joint  effects  with  total 
indifference.  So  far  from  this,  each  used  every  exertion  in 
his  power  to  prevent  it,  not  only  by  his  voice,  but  with  his. 
hands.  One  menaced  the  law  —  the  other  threatened 
Maso  with  condign  punishment  for  his  interference  with  a 
patron’s  rights  and  duties ;  but  their  remonstrances  were 
uttered  to  inattentive  ears.  Maso  knew  himself  to  be  irre¬ 
sponsible  by  situation,  for  it  was  not  an  easy  matter  to 
bring  him  within  the  grasp  of  the  authorities  ;  and  as  for 
the  others,  most  of  them  were  far  too  insignificant  to  feel 
much  apprehension  for  a  reparation  that  would  be  most 
likely,  if  it  fell  at  all,  to  fall  on  those  who  were  more  able 
to  bear  it.  Sigismund  alone  exerted  himself  under  a  sense 
of  his  liabilities  ;  but  he  worked  for  one  that  was  far  dearer 
to  him  than  gold,  and  little  did  he  bethink  him  of  any  other 
consequences  than  those  which  might  befall  the  precious  life 
of  Adelheid  de  Willading. 

The  meagre  packages  of  the  common  passengers  had 
been  thrown  in  a  place  of  safety,  with  the  sort  of  unreflect¬ 
ing  instinct  with  which  we  take  care  of  our  limbs  when  in 
danger.  This  timely  precaution  permitted  each  to  work 
with  a  zeal  that  found  no  drawback  in  personal  interest, 
and  the  effect  was  in  proportion.  A  hundred  hands  were 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


87 


busy,  and  nearly  as  many  throbbing  hearts  lent  their  im¬ 
pulses  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  one  important  object. 

Baptiste  and  his  people,  aided  by  laborers  of  the  port,  had 
passed  an  entire  day  in  heaping  that  pile  on  the  deck  of  the 
Winkelried,  which  was  now  crumbling  to  pieces  with  a 
rapidity  that  seemed  allied  to  magic.  The  patron  and  Nick- 
laus  Wagner  bawled  themselves  hoarse,  with  uttering  use¬ 
less  threats  and  deprecations,  for  by  this  time  the  laborers 
in  the  work  of  destruction  had  received  some  such  impetus 
as  the  rolling  stone  acquires  by  the  increased  momentum  of 
its  descent.  Packages,  boxes,  bales,  and  everything  that 
came  to  hand,  were  hurled  into  the  water  frantically,  and 
without  other  thought  than  of  the  necessity  of  lightening 
the  groaning  bark  of  its  burden.  The  agitation  of  the  lake, 
too,  was  regularly  increasing,  wave  following  wave,  in  a 
manner  to  cause  the  vessel  to  pitch  heavily,  as  it  rose  upon 
the  coming,  or  sank  with  the  receding  swell.  At  length,  a 
shout  announced  that,  in  one  portion  of  the  pile,  the  deck 
was  attained  ! 

The  work  now  proceeded  with  greater  security  to  those 
engaged,  for  hitherto  the  motion  of  the  bark,  and  the  un¬ 
equal  footing,  frequently  rendered  their  situations,  in  the 
darkness  and  confusion,  to  the  last  degree  hazardous.  Maso 
now  abandoned  his  own  active  agency  in  the  toil,  for  no 
sooner  did  he  see  the  others  fairly  and  zealously  enlisted  in 
the  undertaking,  than  he  ceased  his  personal  efforts  to  give 
those  directions  which,  coming  from  one  accustomed  to  the 
occupation,  were  far  more  valuable  than  any  service  that 
could  be  derived  from  a  single  arm. 

“  Thou  art  known  to  me,  Signor  Maso,”  said  Baptiste, 
hoarse  with  his  impotent  efforts  to  restrain  the  torrent, 
“  and  thou  shalt  answer  for  this,  as  well  as  for  other  of  thy 
crimes,  so  soon  as  we  reach  the  haven  of  Vevey  !  ” 

“  Dotard  !  thou  wouldst  carry  thyself  and  all  with  thee, 
by  thy  narrowness  of  spirit,  to  a  port  from  which,  when  it 
is  once  entered,  none  ever  sail  again.” 

“It  lieth  between  ye  both,”  rejoined  Nicklaus  Wagner  ; 
u  thou  art  not  less  to  blame  than  these  madmen,  Baptiste. 
Hadst  thou  left  the  town  at  the  hour  named  in  our  condi¬ 
tions,  this  danger  could  not  have  overtaken  us.” 


88 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Am  I  a  god,  to  command  the  winds  !  I  would  that  I 
had  never  seen  thee  or  thy  cheeses,  or  that  thou  wouldst 
relieve  me  of  thy  presence,  and  go  after  them  into  the 
lake.” 

“  This  comes  of  sleeping  on  duty  ;  nay,  I  know  not  but 
that  a  proper  use  of  the  oars  would  still  bring  us  in,  in 
safety,  and  without  necessary  harm  to  the  property  of  any. 
Noble  Baron  de  Willading,  here  may  be  occasion  for  your 
testimony,  and,  as  a  citizen  of  Berne,  I  pray  you  to  heed 
well  the  circumstances.” 

Baptiste  was  not  in  a  humor  to  bear  these  merited  re¬ 
proaches,  and  he  rejoined  upon  the  aggrieved  Nicklaus  in  a 
manner  that  would  speedily  have  brought  their  ill-timed 
wrangle  to  an  issue,  had  not  Maso  passed  rudely  between 
them,  shoving  them  asunder  with  the  sinews  of  a  giant. 
This  repulse  served  to  keep  the  peace  for  the  moment,  but 
the  wordy  war  continued  with  so  much  acrimony,  and  with 
so  many  unmeasured  terms,  that  Adelheid  and  her  maids, 
pale  and  terror-struck  by  the  surrounding  scene  as  they 
were,  gladly  shut  their  ears,  to  exclude  epithets  of  such  bit¬ 
terness  and  menace  that  they  curdled  the  blood.  Maso 
passed  on  among  the  workmen,  when  he  had  interposed 
between  the  disputants.  He  gave  his  orders  with  perfect 
self-possession,  though  his  understanding  eye  perceived  that, 
instead  of  magnifying  the  danger,  he  had  himself  not  fully 
anticipated  its  extent.  The  rolling  of  the  waves  was  now 
incessant,  and  the  quick,  washing  rush  of  the  water,  a  sound 
familiar  to  the  seaman,  announced  that  they  had  become  so 
large  that  their  summits  broke,  sending  their  lighter  foam 
ahead.  There  were  symptoms,  too,  which  proved  that  their 
situation  was  understood  by  those  on  the  land.  Lights  were 
flashing  along  the  strand  near  Vevey,  and  it  was  not  diffi¬ 
cult  to  detect,  even  at  the  distance  at  which  they  lay,  the 
evidences  of  a  strong  feeling  among  the  people  of  the  town. 

“  I  doubt  not  that  we  have  been  seen,”  said  Melchior  de 
Willading,  “  and  that  our  friends  are  busy  in  devising 
means  to  aid  us.  Roger  de  Blonay  is  not  a  man  to  see  us 
perish  without  an  effort,  nor  would  the  worthy  bailiff,  Peter 
Hofmeister,  be  idle,  knowing  that  a  brother  of  the  burger- 


THE  HEADSMAN.  89 

echaft,  and  an  old  school  associate,  hath  need  of  his  assist¬ 
ance.” 

“  None  can  come  to  11s,  without  running  an  equal  risk 
with  ourselves,”  answered  the  Genoese.  “  It  were  better 
that  we  should  be  left  to  our  own  exertions.  I  like  the 
coolness  of  this  unknown  mariner,  and  I  put  my  faith  in 
God  !  ” 

A  new  shout  proclaimed  that  the  deck  had  been  gained 
on  the  other  side  of  the  bark.  Much  the  greater  part  of 
the  deck-load  had  now  irretrievably  disappeared,  and  the 
movements  of  the  relieved  vessel  were  more  lively  and  sane. 
Maso  called  to  him  one  or  two  of  the  regular  crew,  and  to¬ 
gether  they  rolled  up  the  canvas  in  a  manner  peculiar  to 
the  latine  rig  ;  for  a  breath  of  hot  air,  the  first  of  any  sort 
that  had  been  felt  for  many  hours,  passed  athwart  the  bark. 
This  duty  was  performed,  as  canvas  is  known  to  be  furled 
at  need,  but  it  was  done  securely.  Maso  then  went  among 
the  laborers  again,  encouraging  them  with  his  voice,  and 
directing  their  efforts  with  his  counsel. 

“  Thou  art  not  equal  to  thy  task,”  he  said,  addressing  one 
who  was  vainly  endeavoring  to  roll  a  bale  to  the  side  of  the 
vessel,  a  little  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  busy  crowd  ; 
u  thou  wilt  do  better  to  assist  the  others,  than  to  waste  thy 
force  here.” 

“  I  feel  the  strength  to  remove  a  mountain  !  Do  we  not 
work  for  our  lives  ?  ” 

The  mariner  bent  forward,  and  looked  into  the  other’s 
face.  These  frantic  and  ill-directed  efforts  came  from  the 
Westphalian  student. 

“  Thy  star  has  disappeared,”  he  rejoined,  smiling  —  for 
Maso  had  smiled  in  scenes  far  more  imposing  than  even  that 
with  which  he  was  now  surrounded. 

“  She  gazes  at  it  still  ;  she  thinks  of  one  that  loves  her, 
who  is  journeying  far  from  the  fatherland.” 

“  Hold  !  Since  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  I  will  help  thee  to 
cast  this  bale  into  the  water.  Place  thine  arm  thus  ;  an 
ounce  of  well-directed  force  is  worth  a  pound  that  acts 
against  itself.” 

Stooping  together,  their  united  strength  did  that  which 


90 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


had  baffled  the  single  efforts  of  the  scholar.  The  package 
rolled  to  the  gangway,  and  the  German,  frenzied  with  ex¬ 
citement,  shouted  aloud  !  The  bark  lurched,  and  the  bale 
went  over  the  side,  as  if  the  lifeless  mass  were  suddenly  pos¬ 
sessed  with  the  desire  to  perform  the  evolution  which  its 
inert  weight  had  so  long  resisted.  Maso  recovered  his 
footing,  which  had  been  deranged  by  the  unexpected 
movement,  with  a  seaman’s  dexterity,  but  his  companion 
was  no  longer  at  his  side.  Kneeling  on  the  gangway,  he 
perceived  the  dark  bale  disappearing  in  the  element,  with 
the  feet  of  the  Westphalian  dragging  after.  He  bent  for¬ 
ward  to  grasp  the  rising  body,  but  it  never  returned  to  the 
surface,  being  entangled  in  the  cords,  or,  what  was  equally 
probable,  retained  by  the  frantic  grasp  of  the  student,  whose 
mind  had  yielded  to  the  awful  character  of  the  night. 

The  life  of  II  Maledetto  had  been  one  of  great  vicissitudes 
and  peril.  He  had  often  seen  men  pass  suddenly  into  the 
other  state  of  existence,  and  had  been  calm  himself  amid 
the  cries,  the  groans,  and,  what  is  far  more  appalling,  the 
execrations  of  the  dying,  but  never  before  had  he  witnessed 
so  brief  and  silent  an  end.  For  more  than  a  minute,  he 
hung  suspended  over  the  dark  and  working  water,  expecting 
to  see  the  student  return  ;  and,  when  hope  was  reluctantly 
abandoned,  he  arose  to  his  feet,  a  startled  and  admonished 
man.  Still  discretion  did  not  desert  him.  He  saw  the  use¬ 
lessness,  and  even  the  danger,  of  distracting  the  attention 
of  the  workmen,  and  the  ill-fated  scholar  was  permitted  to 
pass  away  without  a  word  of  regret  or  a  comment  on  his 
fate.  None  knew  of  his  loss  but  the  wary  mariner,  nor  was 
his  person  missed  by  any  one  of  those  who  had  spent  the 
day  in  his  company.  But  she  to  whom  he  had  plighted 
his  faith  on  the  banks  of  the  Elbe  long  gazed  at  that  pale 
star,  and  wept  in  bitterness  that  her  feminine  constancy  met 
with  no  return.  Her  true  affections  long  outlived  their  ob 
ject,  for  his  image  was  deeply  enshrined  in  a  warm  female 
heart.  Hays,  weeks,  months,  and  years  passed  for  her  in 
the  wasting  cheerlessness  of  hope  deferred,  but  the  dark 
Leman  never  gave  up  its  secret,  and  he  to  whom  her  lover’s 
fate  alone  was  known  little  bethought  him  of  an  accident 


THE  HEADSMAN.  91 

which,  if  not  forgotten,  was  but  one  of  many  similar  fright¬ 
ful  incidents  in  his  eventful  career. 

Maso  reappeared  among  the  crowd,  with  the  forced  com¬ 
posure  of  one  who  well  knew  that  authority  was  most 
efficient  when  most  calm.  The  command  of  the  vessel  was 
now  virtually  with  him,  Baptiste,  enervated  by  the  extraor¬ 
dinary  crisis,  and  choking  with  passion,  being  utterly  inca¬ 
pable  of  giving  a  distinct  or  a  useful  order.  It  was  fortu¬ 
nate  for  those  in  the  bark  that  the  substitute  was  so  good, 
for  more  fearful  signs  never  impended  over  the  Leman  than 
those  which  darkened  the  hour. 

We  have  necessarily  consumed  much  time  in  relating 
these  events,  the  pen  not  equaling  the  activity  of  the 
thoughts.  Twenty  minutes,  however,  had  not  passed  since 
the  tranquillity  of  the  lake  was  first  disturbed,  and  so  great 
1  had  been  the  exertions  of  those  in  the  Winkelried,  that  the 
i  time  appeared  to  be  shorter.  But,  though  it  had  been  so 
well  employed,  neither  had  the  powers  of  the  air  been  idle. 
The  unnatural  opening  in  the  heavens  was  shut,  and  at  short 
intervals,  those  fearful  wheelings  of  the  aerial  squadrons 
were  drawing  nearer.  Thrice  had  fitful  breathings  of  warm 
air  passed  over  the  bark,  and  occasionally,  as  she  plunged 
into  a  sea  that  was  heavier  than  common,  the  faces  of  those 

Ion  board  were  cooled,  as  it  might  be  with  some  huge  fan. 
These  were  no  more,  however,  than  sudden  changes  in  the 
atmosphere,  of  which  veins  were  displaced  by  the  distant 
struggle  between  the  heated  air  of  the  lake  and  that  which 
had  been  chilled  on  the  glaciers,  or  they  were  the  still  more 
simple  result  of  the  violent  agitation  of  the  vessel. 

The  deep  darkness  which  shut  in  the  vault,  giving  to  the 
embedded  Leman  the  appearance  of  a  gloomy,  liquid  glen, 
contributed  to  the  awful  sublimity  of  the  night.  The  ram- 
|  parts  of  Savoy  were  barely  distinguishable  from  the  flying 
clouds,  having  the  appearance  of  black  walls,  seemingly 
within  reach  of  the  hand  ;  while  the  more  varied  and  softer 
cotes  of  Vaud  lay  an  indefinable  and  sombre  mass,  less  men 
acing,  it  is  true,  but  equally  confused  and  unattainable. 

Still  the  beacon  blazed  in  the  grate  of  old  Roger  da 
Blonay,  and  flaring  torches  glided  along  the  strand.  The 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


qo 

shore  seemed  alive  witli  human  beings,  able  as  themselves 
to  appreciate  and  to  feel  for  their  situation. 

The  deck  was  now  cleared,  and  the  travellers  were  col¬ 
lected  in  a  group  between  the  masts.  Pippo  had  lost  all 
his  pleasantry  under  the  dread  signs  of  the  hour,  and  Con¬ 
rad,  trembling  with  superstition  and  terror,  was  free  from 
hypocrisy.  They,  and  those  with  them,  discoursed  on  their 
chances,  on  the  nature  of  the  risks  they  ran,  and  on  its 
probable  causes. 

“  I  see  no  image  of  Maria,  nor  even  a  pitiful  lamp  to  any 
of  the  blessed,  in  this  accursed  bark  !  ”  said  the  juggler,  after 
several  had  hazarded  their  quaint  and  peculiar  opinions. 
“  Let  the  patron  come  forth,  and  answer  for  his  negli¬ 
gence.” 

The  passengers  were  about  equally  divided  between  those 
who  dissented  from,  and  those  who  worshipped  with  Rome. 
This  proposal,  therefore,  met  with  a  mixed  reception.  The 
latter  protested  against  the  neglect,  while  the  former,  equally 
under  the  influence  of  abject  fear,  were  loud  in  declaring 
that  the  idolatry  itself  might  cost  them  all  their  lives. 

“  The  curse  of  Heaven  alight  on  the  evil  tongue  that  first 
uttered  the  thought !  ”  muttered  the  trembling  Pippo  be¬ 
tween  his  teeth,  too  prudent  to  fly  openly  in  the  face  of  so 
strong  an  opposition,  and  yet  too  credulous  not  to  feel  the 
omission  in  every  nerve.  “  Hast  nothing  by  thee,  pious 
Conrad,  that  may  avail  a  Christian  ?  ” 

The  pilgrim  reached  forth  his  hand  with  a  rosary  and 
cross.  The  sacred  emblem  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
among  the  believers,  with  a  zeal  little  short  of  that  they  had 
manifested  in  unloading  the  deck.  Encouraged  by  this  sac¬ 
rifice,  they  called  loudly  upon  Baptiste  to  present  himself. 
Confronted  with  these  unnurtured  spirits,  the  patron  shook 
in  every  limb,  for,  between  anger  and  abject  fear,  his  self- 
command  had  by  this  time  absolutely  deserted  him.  To 
the  repeated  appeals  to  procure  a  light,  that  it  might  be 
placed  before  a  picture  of  the  mother  of  God  which  Conrad 
produced,  he  objected  his  Protestant  faith,  the  impossibility 
of  maintaining  the  flame  while  the  bark  pitched  so  violently, 
and  the  divided  opinions  of  the  passengers.  The  Catholics 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


93 


bethought  them  of  the  country  and  influence  of  Maso,  and 
they  loudly  called  upon  him,  for  the  love  of  God  !  to  come 
and  enforce  their  requests.  But  the  mariner  was  occupied 
on  the  forecastle,  lowering  one  anchor  after  another  into  the 
water,  passively  assisted  by  the  people  of  the  bark,  who 
wondered  at  a  precaution  so  useless,  since  no  rope  could 
reach  the  bottom,  even  while  they  did  not  dare  deny  his 
orders.  Something  was  now  said  of  the  curse  that  had 
alighted  on  the  vessel,  in  consequence  of  its  patron’s  inten¬ 
tion  to  embark  the  headsman.  Baptiste  trembled  to  the 
skin  of  his  crown,  and  his  blood  crept  with  a  superstitious 
awe. 

“  Dost  think  there  can  really  be  aught  in  this  ?  ”  he  asked, 
with  parched  lips  and  a  faltering  tongue. 

All  distinction  of  faith  was  lost  in  the  general  ridicule. 
Now  the  Westphalian  was  gone,  there  was  not  a  man  among 
them  to  doubt  that  a  navigation  so  accompanied  would  be 
cursed.  Baptiste  stammered,  muttered  many  incoherent 
sentences,  and  finally,  in  his  impotency,  he  permitted  the 
dangerous  secret  to  escape  him. 

The  intelligence  that  Balthazar  was  among  them  pro¬ 
duced  a  solemn  and  deep  silence.  The  fact,  however,  fur¬ 
nished  as  conclusive  evidence  of  the  cause  of  their  peril  to 
the  minds  of  these  untutored  beings,  as  a  mathematician 
could  have  received  from  the  happiest  of  his  demonstrations. 
New  light  broke  in  upon  them,  and  the  ominous  stillness 
was  followed  by  a  general  demand  for  the  patron  to  point 
out  the  man.  Obeying  this  order,  partly  under  the  influ¬ 
ence  of  a  terror  that  was  allied  to  his  moral  weakness,  and 
partly  in  bodily  fear,  he  shoved  the  headsman  forward,  sub¬ 
stituting  the  person  of  the  proscribed  man  for  his  own,  and, 
profiting  by  the  occasion,  he  stole  out  of  the  crowd. 

When  the  Herr  Muller,  or,  as  he  was  now  known  and 
called,  Balthazar,  was  rudely  pushed  into  the  hands  of  these 
ferocious  agents  of  superstition,  the  apparent  magnitude  of 
the  discovery  induced  a  general  and  breathless  pause.  Like 
the  treacherous  calm  that  had  so  long  reigned  upon  the  lake, 
it  was  a  precursor  of  a  fearful  and  violent  explosion.  Little 
was  said,  for  the  occason  was  too  ominous  for  a  display  of 


94 


the  headsman. 


vulgar  feeling,  but  Conrad,  Pippo,  and  one  or  two  more, 
silently  raised  the  fancied  offender  in  their  arms,  and  bore 
him  desperately  towards  the  side  of  the  bark. 

“  Call  on  Maria,  for  the  good  of  thy  soul !  ”  whispered 
the  Neapolitan,  with  a  strange  mixture  of  Christian  zeal,  in 
the  midst  of  all  his  ferocity. 

The  sound  of  words  like  these  usually  conveys  the  idea 
of  charity  and  love  ;  but  notwithstanding  this  gleam  of 
hope,  Balthazar  still  found  himself  borne  towards  his  fate. 

On  quitting  the  throng  that  clustered  together  in  a  dense 
body  between  the  masts,  Baptiste  encountered  his  old  an¬ 
tagonist,  Nicklaus  Wagner.  The  fury  which  had  so  long 
been  pent  in  his  breast  suddenly  found  vent,  and  in  the 
madness  of  the  moment  he  struck  him.  The  stout  Bernese 
grappled  his  assailant,  and  the  struggle  became  fierce  as  that 
of  brutes.  Scandalized  by  such  a  spectacle,  offended  by  the 
disrespect,  and  ignorant  of  what  else  was  passing  near  —  for 
the  crowd  had  uttered  its  resolutions  in  the  suppressed 
voices  of  men  determined  —  the  Baron  de  Willading  and 
the  Signor  Grimaldi  advanced  with  dignity  and  firmness  to 
prevent  the  shameful  strife.  At  this  critical  moment  the 
voice  of  Balthazar  was  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  coming 
wind,  not  calling  on  Maria,  as  he  had  been  admonished,  but 
appealing  to  the  two  old  nobles  to  save  him.  Sigismund 
sprang  forward  like  a  lion  at  the  cry,  but,  too  late  to  reach 
those  who  were  about  to  cast  the  headsman  from  the  gang¬ 
way,  he  was  just  in  time  to  catch  the  body  by  its  garments, 
when  actually  sailing  in  the  air.  By  a  vast  effort  of  strength 
its  direction  was  diverted.  Instead  of  alighting  in  the 
water,  Balthazar  encountered  the  angry  combatants,  who, 
driven  back  on  the  two  nobles,  forced  the  whole  four  over 
the  side  of  the  bark  into  the  water. 

The  struggle  between  the  two  bodies  of  air  ceased,  that 
on  the  surface  of  the  lake  yielding  to  the  avalanche  from 
above,  and  the  tempest  came  howling  upon  the  bark. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


95 


CHAPTER  VII. 

And  now  the  glee 

Of  the  loud  hills  shakes  with  their  mountain  mirth. 

Byron. 

It  is  necessary  to  recapitulate  a  little  in  order  to  con¬ 
nect  events.  The  signs  of ‘the  hour  had  been,  gradually  but 
progressively  increasing.  While  the  lake  was  unruffled,  a 
stillness  so  profound  prevailed,  that  sounds  from  the  distant 
port,  such  as  the  heavy  fall  of  an  oar,  or  a  laugh  from  the 
watermen,  had  reached  the  ears  of  those  in  the  Winkelried, 
bringing  with  them  the  feeling  of  security,  and  the  strong 
charm  of  a  calm  at  even.  To  these  succeeded  the  gather¬ 
ing  in  the  heavens,  and  the  roaring  of  the  winds,  as  they 
came  rushing  down  the  sides  of  the  Alps,  in  their  first 
descent  into  the  basin  of  the  Leman.  As  the  sight  grew 
useless,  except  as  it  might  study  the  dark  omens  of  the 
impending  vault,  the  sense  of  hearing  became  doubly  acute, 
and  it  had  been  a  powerful  agent  in  heightening  the  vague 
but  acute  apprehensions  of  the  travellers.  The  rushes  of 
the  wind,  which  at  first  were  broken,  at  intervals  resembling 
the  roar  of  a  chimney-top  in  a  gale,  had  soon  reached  the 
fearful  grandeur  of  those  aerial  wheelings  of  squadrons,  to 
which  we  have  more  than  once  alluded,  passing  off  in  dread 
mutterings,  that,  in  the  deep  quiet  of  all  other  things,  bore 
a  close  affinity  to  the  rumbling  of  a  surf  upon  the  seashore. 
The  surface  of  the  lake  was  first  broken  after  one  of  these 
symptoms,  and  it  was  this  infallible  sign  of  a  gale  which 
had  assured  Maso  there  was  no  time  to  lose.  This  move¬ 
ment  of  the  element  in  a  calm  is  a  common  phenomenon  on 
waters  that  are  much  environed  with  elevated  and  irregular 
headlands,  and  it  is  a  certain  proof  that  wind  is  on  some 
distant  portion  of  the  sheet.  It  occurs  frequently  on  the 


96 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ocean,  too,  where' the  mariner  is  accustomed  to  find  a  heavy 
sea  setting  in  one  direction,  the  effects  of  some  distant 
storm,  while  the  breeze  around  him  is  blowing  in  its  oppo¬ 
site.  It  had  been  succeeded  by  the  single  rolling  swell, 
like  the  outer  circle  of  waves  produced  by  dropping  a  stone 
into  the  water,  and  the  regular  and  increasing  agitation  of 
the  lake,  until  the  element  broke  as  in  a  tempest,  and  that 
seemingly  of  its  own  volition,  since  not  a  breath  of  air  was 
stirring.  This  last  and  formidable  symptom  of  the  force  of 
the  coming  gust,  however,  had  now  become  so  unequivocal, 
that,  at  the  moment  when  the  three  travellers  and  the 
patron  fell  from  her  gangway,  the  Winkelried,  to  use  a  sea¬ 
man’s  phrase,  was  literally  wallowing  in  the  troughs  of  the 
seas. 

A  dull,  unnatural  light  preceded  the  winds,  and  notwith¬ 
standing  the  previous  darkness,  the  nature  of  the  accident 
was  fully  apparent  to  all.  Even  the  untamed  spirits  that 
had  just  been  bent  upon  so  fierce  a  sacrifice  to  their  super¬ 
stitious  dread,  uttered  cries  of  horror,  while  the  piercing 
shriek  of  Adelheid  sounded,  in  that  fearful  moment,  as  if 
beings  of  superhuman  attributes  were  riding  in  the  gale. 
The  name  of  Sigismund  was  heard,  too,  in  one  of  those  wild 
appeals  that  the  frantic  suffer  to  escape  them  in  their  de¬ 
spair.  But  the  interval  between  the  plunge  into  the  water 
and  the  swoop  of  the  tempest  was  so  short  that,  to  the 
senses  of  the  travellers,  the  whole  seemed  the  occurrence  of 
the  same  teeming  moment. 

Maso  had  completed  his  work  on  the  forecastle,  had  seen 
that  other  provisions  which  he  had  ordered  were  duly  made, 
and  reached  the  tiller  just  in  time  to  witness  and  to  under¬ 
stand  all  that  occurred.  Adelheid  and  her  female  attend¬ 
ants  were  already  lashed  to  the  principal  masts,  and  ropes 
were  given  to  the  others  around  her,  as  indispensable  pre¬ 
cautions  ;  for  the  deck  of  the  bark,  now  cleared  of  every 
particle  of  its  freight,  was  as  exposed  and  as  defenseless 
against  the  power  of  the  wind  as  a  naked  heath.  Such  was 
the  situation  of  the  Winkelried,  when  the  omens  of  the 
night  changed  to  their  dread  reality. 

Instinct,  in  cases  of  sudden  and  unusual  danger,  must  do 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


97 


the  office  of  reason.  There  was  no  necessity  to  warn  the 
unthinking  but  panic-struck  crowd  to  provide  for  their  own 
safety,  for  every  man  in  the  centre  of  the  barge  threw  his 
body  flat  on  the  deck,  and  grasped  the  cords  that  Maso  had 
taken  care  to  provide  for  that  purpose,  with  the  tenacity 
with  which  all  who  possess  life  cling  to  the  means  of  exist¬ 
ence.  The  dogs  gave  beautiful  proofs  of  the  secret  and 
wonderful  means  that  nature  has  imparted,  to  answer  the 
ends  of  their  creation.  Old  Uberto  crouched,  cowering, 
and  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  helplessness,  at  the  side  of 
his  master,  while  the  Newfoundland  follower  of  the  mariner 
went  leaping  from  gangway  to  gangway,  snuffing  the  heated 
air  and  barking  wildly,  as  if  he  would  challenge  the  ele¬ 
ments  to  close  for  the  strife. 

A  vast  body  of  warm  air  had  passed  unheeded  athwart 
the  bark,  during  the  minute  that  preceded  the  intended 
sacrifice  of  Balthazar.  It  was  the  forerunner  of  the  hurri¬ 
cane,  which  had  chased  it  from  the  bed  where  it  had  been 
steeping  since  the  warm  and  happy  noontide.  Ten  thou¬ 
sand  chariots  at  their  speed  could  not  have  equaled  the 
rumbling  that  succeeded,  when  the  winds  came  booming 
over  the  lake.  As  if  too  eager  to  permit  anything  within 
their  fangs  to  escape,  they  brought  with  them  a  wild,  dull 
light,  which  filled  while  it  clouded  the  atmosphere,  and 
which,  it  was  scarcely  fanciful  to  imagine,  had  been  hurried 
down  in  their  vortex  from  those  chill  glaciers,  where  they 
had  so  long  been  condensing  their  forces  for  the  present 
descent.  The  waves  were  not  increased,  but  depressed  by 
the  pressure  of  this  atmospheric  column,  though  it  took  up 
hogsheads  of  water  from  their  crests,  scattering  it  in  fine, 
penetrating  spray,  till  the  entire  space  between  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  seemed  saturated  with  its  particles. 

The  Winkelried  received  the  shock  at  a  moment  when 
the  lee-side  of  her  broad  deck  was  wallowing  in  the  trough, 
and  its  weather  was  protruded  on  the  summit  of  a  swell. 
The  wind  howled  when  it  struck  the  pent  limits,  as  if 
angered  at  being  thwarted,  and  there  was  a  roar  under  the 
wide  gangways,  resembling  that  of  lions.  The  reeling 

vessel  was  raised  in  a  manner  to  cause  those  on  board  to 

7 


98 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


believe  it  about  to  be  lifted  bodily  from  the  water,  but  the 
ceaseless  rolling  of  the  element  restored  the  balance.  Maso 
afterwards  affirmed  that  nothing  but  this  accidental  position, 
which  formed  a  sort  of  lee,  prevented  all  in  the  bark  from 
being  swept  from  the  deck,  before  the  first  gust  of  the 
hurricane. 

Sigismund  had  heard  the  heart-rending  appeal  of  Adel- 
heid,  and,  notwithstanding  the  awful  strife  of  the  elements 
and  the  fearful  character  of  the  night,  he  alone  breasted  the 
shock  on  his  feet.  Though  aided  by  a  rope  and  bowed  like 
a  reed,  his  herculean  frame  trembled  under  the  shock,  in  a 
way  to  render  even  his  ability  to  resist  seriously  doubtful. 
But,  the  first  blast  expended,  he  sprang  to  the  gangway, 
and  leaped  into  the  caldron  of  the  lake  unhesitatingly,  and 
yet  in  the  possession  of  all  his  faculties.  He  was  desper¬ 
ately  bent  on  saving  a  life  so  dear  to  Adelheid,  or  on  dying 
in  the  attempt. 

Maso  had  watched  the  crisis  with  a  seaman’s  eye,  a  sea¬ 
man’s  resources,  and  a  seaman’s  coolness.  He  had  not 
refused  to  quit  his  feet,  but,  kneeling  on  one  knee,  he 
pressed  the  tiller  down,  lashed  it,  and  clinging  to  the  mas¬ 
sive  timber  faced  the  tempest  with  the  steadiness  of  a  water- 
god.  There  was  sublimity  in  the  intelligence,  deliberation, 
and  calculating  skill  with  which  this  solitary,  unknown,  and 
nearly  hopeless  mariner  obeyed  his  professional  instinct  in 
that  fearful  concussion  of  the  elements,  which,  loosened  from 
every  restraint,  now  appeared  abandoned  to  their  own  wild 
and  fierce  will.  He  threw  aside  his  cap,  pushed  forward 
his  thick  but  streaming  locks,  as  veils  to  protect  his  eyes, 
and  watched  the  first  encounter  of  the  wind,  as  the  wary 
but  sullen  lion  keeps  his  gaze  on  the  hostile  elephant.  A 
grim  smile  stole  across  his  features,  when  he  felt  the  vessel 
settle  again  into  its  watery  bed,  after  that  breathless 
moment  in  which  there  had  been  reason  to  fear  it  might 
actually  be  lifted  from  its  proper  element.  Then  the  pre¬ 
caution,  which  had  seemed  so  useless  and  incomprehensible 
to  others,  came  in  play.  The  bark  made  a  fearful  whirl 
from  the  spot  where  it  had  so  long  lain,  yielding  to  the 
touch  of  the  gust  like  a  vane  turning  on  its  pivot,  while  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


99 


water  gurgled  several  streaks  on  deck.  But  the  cables 
were  no  sooner  taut  than  the  numerous  anchors  resisted, 
and  brought  the  bark  head  to  wind.  Maso  felt  the  yielding 
of  the  vessel’s  stern,  as  she  swung  furiouslv  round,  and  he 
cheered  aloud.  The  trembling  of  the  timbers,  the  dashing 
against  the  pointed  beak,  and  that  high  jet  of  water,  which 
shot  up  over  the  bows  and  fell  heavily  on  the  forecastle, 
washing  aft  in  a  tlood.  were  so  many  evidences  that  the 
cables  were  true.  Advancing  from  his  post,  with  some  such 
dignity  as  a  master  of  fence  displays  in  the  exercise  of  his 
art.  he  shouted  for  his  dog. 

*  o 

*•  Xettuno  !  Xettuno  !  —  where  art  thou,  brave  Xet- 
tuno  ?  ” 

The  faithful  animal  was  whining  near  him,  unheard  in 
that  war  of  the  elements.  He  waited  only  for  this  encour¬ 
agement  to  act.  Xo  sooner  was  his  master’s  voice  heard, 
than,  barking  bravelv.  he  snuffed  the  gale,  dashed  to  the 
side  of  the  vessel,  and  leaped  into  the  boiling  lake. 

When  Melchior  de  Willading  and  his  friend  returned  to 
the  surface,  after  their  plunge,  it  was  like  men  making  their 
appearance  in  a  world  abandoned  to  the  infernal  humors  of 
the  fiends  of  darkness.  The  reader  will  understand  it  was 
at  the  instant  of  the  swoop  of  the  winds,  that  has  just  been 
detailed,  for  what  we  have  taken  so  many  pages  to  describe 
in  words,  scarce  needed  a  minute  of  time  in  the  accom¬ 
plishment. 

Maso  knelt  on  the  verge  of  the  gangway,  sustaining  him- 
self  by  passing  an  arm  around  a  shroud,  and.  bending  for¬ 
ward.  he  gazed  into  the  caldron  of  the  lake  with  aching 
eves.  Once  or  twice,  he  thought  he  heard  the  stifled 
breathing  of  one  who  struggled  with  the  raging  water ; 
but,  in  that  roar  of  the  winds,  it  was  easy  to  be  deceived. 
He  shouted  encouragement  to  his  dog,  however,  and  gath- 
ering  a  small  rope  rapidly,  he  made  a  heaving  coil  of  one 
of  its  ends.  This  he  cast  far  from  him.  with  a  peculiar 
swing  and  dexterity,  hauling-in,  and  repeating  the  experi¬ 
ments.  steadily  and  with  unwearied  industry.  The  rope 
was  necessarily  thrown  at  hazard,  for  the  misty  light  pre¬ 
vented  more  than  it  aided  vision ;  and  the  howling  of  the 


100 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


powers  of  the  air  filled  his  ears  with  sounds  that  resembled 
the  laugh  of  devils. 

In  the  cultivation  of  the  youthful  manly  exercises, 
neither  of  the  old  nobles  had  neglected  the  useful  skill  of 
being  able  to  buffet  with  the  waves.  Both  possessed  what 
was  far  better,  in  such  a  strait,  than  the  knowledge  of  a 
swimmer,  in  that  self-command  and  coolness  in  emergen¬ 
cies  which  they  are  apt  to  acquire  who  pass  their  time  in 
encountering  the  hazards  and  in  overcoming  the  difficulties 
of  war.  Each  retained  a  sufficiency  of  recollection,  there¬ 
fore,  on  coming  to  the  surface,  to  understand  his  situation, 
and  not  to  increase  the  danger  by  the  ill-directed  and  fran¬ 
tic  efforts  that  usually  drown  the  frightened.  The  case 
was  sufficiently  desperate,  at  the  best,  without  the  additional 
risk  of  distraction,  for  the  bark  had  already  drifted  to  some 
unseen  spot,  that,  as  respects  them,  was  quite  unattainable. 
In  this  uncertainty,  it  would  have  been  madness  to  steer 
amid  the  waste  of  waters,  as  likely  to  go  wrong  as  right, 
and  they  limited  their  efforts  to  mutual  support  and  encour¬ 
agement,  placing  their  trust  in  God. 

Not  so  with  Sigismund.  To  him  the  roaring  tempest 
was  mute,  the  boiling  and  hissing  lake  had  no  horrors,  and 
he  had  plunged  into  the  fathomless  Leman  as  recklessly  as 
he  could  have  leaped  to  land.  The  shriek,  the  “  Sigis¬ 
mund  !  oh  Sigismund !  ”  of  Adelheid,  was  in  his  ears,  and 
her  cry  of  anguish  thrilled  on  every  nerve.  The  athletic- 
young  Swiss  was  a  practiced  and  expert  swimmer,  or  it  is 
improbable  that  even  these  strong  impulses  could  have 
overcome  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  In  a  tranquil 
basin,  it  would  have  been  no  extraordinary  or  unusual  feat 
for  him  to  conquer  the  distance  between  the  Winkelried 
and  the  shores  of  Vaud  ;  but,  like  all  the  others,  on  casting 
himself  into  the  water,  he  was  obliged  to  shape  his  course 
at  random,  and  this,  too,  amid  such  a  driving  spray  as  ren¬ 
dered  even  respiration  difficult.  As  has  been  said,  the 
waves  were  compressed  into  their  bed  rather  than  aug¬ 
mented  by  the  wind  ;  but,  had  it  been  otherwise,  the  mere 
heaving  and  settling  of  the  element,  while  it  obstructs  his 
speed,  offers  a  support  rather  than  an  obstacle  to  the  prac- 
ticed  swimmer. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


101 


Notwithstanding  all  these  advantages,  the  strength  of  his 
impulses,  and  the  numberless  occasions  on  which  he  had 
breasted  the  surges  of  the  Mediterranean,  Sigismund,  on 
recovering  from  his  plunge,  felt  the  tearful  chances  of  the 
risk  he  ran,  as  the  stern  soldier  meets  the  hazards  of  battle, 
in  which  he  knows  if  there  is  victory  there  is  also  death. 
He  dashed  the  troubled  water  aside,  though  he  swam 
blindly,  and  each  stroke  urged  him  farther  from  the  bark, 
his  only  hope  of  safety.  He  was  between  dark,  rolling 
mounds,  and,  on  rising  to  their  summits,  a  hurricane  of 
mist  made  him  glad  to  sink  again  within  a  similar  shelter. 
The  breaking  crests  of  the  waves,  which  were  glancing  off 
in  foam,  also  gave  him  great  annoyance,  for  such  was  their 
force,  that,  more  than  once,  he  was  hurled  helpless  as  a  log 
before  them.  Still  he  swam  boldly,  and  with  strength ; 
nature  having  gifted  him  with  more  than  the  usual  phys¬ 
ical  energy  of  man.  But,  uncertain  in  his  course,  unable 
to  see  the  length  of  his  own  body,  and  pressed  hard  upon 
by  the  wind,  even  the  spirit  of  Sigismund  Steinbach  could 
not  long  withstand  so  many  adverse  circumstances.  He 
had  already  turned,  wavering  in  purpose,  thinking  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  bark  in  the  direction  he  had  come,  when 
a  dark  mass  floated  immediately  before  his  eyes,  and  he 
felt  the  cold,  clammy  nose  of  the  dog,  scenting  about  his 
face.  The  admirable  instinct,  or  we  might  better  say,  the 
excellent  training  of  Nettuno,  told  him  that  his  services 
were  not  needed  here,  and,  barking  with  wild  delight,  as  if 
in  mockery  of  the  infernal  din  of  the  tempest,  he  sheered 
aside,  and  swam  swiftly  on.  A  thought  flashed  like  light¬ 
ning  on  the  brain  of  Sigismund.  His  best  hope  was  in  the 
inexplicable  faculties  of  this  animal.  Throwing  forward  an 
arm,  he  seized  the  bushy  tail  of  the  dog,  and  suffered  him¬ 
self  to  be  draped  ahead,  he  knew  not  whither,  though  he 
seconded  the  movement  with  his  own  exertions.  Another 
bark  proclaimed  that  the  experiment  was  successful,  and 
voices,  rising  as  it  were  from  the  water,  close  at  hand,  an¬ 
nounced  the  proximity  of  human  beings.  The  brunt  of 
the  hurricane  was  past,  and  the  washing  of  the  waves, 
which  had  been  stilled  by  the  roar  and  the  revelry  of  the 
winds,  again  became  audible. 


.102 


THE  HEADSMAN.* 


The  strength  of  the  two  struggling  old  men  was  sinking 
fast.  The  Signor  Grimaldi  had  thus  far  generously  sus¬ 
tained  his  friend,  who  was  less  expert  than  himself  in  the 
water,  and  he  continued  to  cheer  him  with  a  hope  he  did 
not  feel  himself,  nobly  refusing  to  the  last  to  separate  their 
fortunes. 

u  How  dost  find  thyself,  old  Melchior  ?  ”  he  asked. 
“  Cheer  thee,  friend  —  I  think  there  is  succor  at  hand.” 

The  water  gurgled  at  the  mouth  of  the  baron,  who  was 
near  the  gasp. 

“  ’Tis  late  —  bless  thee,  dearest  Gaetano  —  God  be  with 
my  child  —  my  Adelheid  —  poor  Adelheid  !  ” 

The  utterance  of  this  precious  name  under  a  father’s 
agony  of  spirit,  most  probably  saved  his  life.  The  sinewy 
arm  of  Sigismund,  directed  by  the  words,  grasped  his  dress, 
and  he  felt  at  once  that  a  new  and  preserving  power  had 
interposed  between  him  and  the  caverns  of  the  lake.  It 
was  time,  for  the  water  had  covered  the  face  of  the  failing 
baron,  ere  the  muscular  arm  of  the  youth  came  to  perform 
its  charitable  office. 

“  Yield  thee  to  the  dog,  Signore,”  said  Sigismund,  clear¬ 
ing  his  mouth  of  water  to  speak  calmly,  once  assured  of  his 
own  burden ;  “  trust  to  his  sagacity,  and  —  God  keep  us 
in  mind  !  —  all  may  yet  be  well  !  ” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  retained  sufficient  presence  of 
mind  to  follow  this  advice,  and  it  was  probably  quite  as  for¬ 
tunate  that  his  friend  had  so  far  lost  his  consciousness,  as 
to  become  an  unresisting  burden  in  the  hands  of  Sigis¬ 
mund. 

“  ISiettuno  !  gallant  Nettuno !  ”  swept  past  them  on  the 
gale  for  the  first  time,  the  partial  hushing  of  the  winds  per¬ 
mitting  the  clear  call  of  Maso  to  reach  so  far.  The  sound 
directed  the  efforts  of  Sigismund,  though  the  dog  had  swum 
steadily  away  the  moment  he  had  the  Genoese  in  his  gripe, 
and  with  a  certainty  of  manner  that  showed  he  was  at  no 
loss  for  a  direction. 

But  Sigismund  had  taxed  his  powers  too  far.  He,  who 
could  have  buffeted  an  ordinary  sea  for  hours,  was  now 
completely  exhausted  by  the  unwonted  exertions,  the  dead- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


103 


ening  influence  of  the  tempest,  and  the  log-like  weight  of 
his  burden.  He  would  not  desert  the  father  of  Adelheid, 
and  yet  each  fainting  and  useless  stroke  told  him  to  despair. 
The  dog  had  already  disappeared  in  the  darkness,  and  he 
was  even  uncertain  again  of  the  true  position  of  the  bark. 
He  prayed  in  agony  for  a  single  glimpse  of  the  rocking 
masts  and  yards,  or  to  catch  one  syllable  of  the  cheering 
voice  of  Maso.  But  both  his  wishes  were  in  vain.  In 
place  of  the  former,  he  had  naught  but  the  veiled,  misty 
light,  that  had  come  on  with  the  hurricane  ;  and  instead  of 
the  latter,  his  ears  were  filled  with  the  washing  of  the 
waves  and  the  roars  of  the  gusts.  The  blasts  now  de¬ 
scended  to  the  surface  of  the  lake,  and  now  went  whirling 
and  swelling  upwards,  in  a  way  to  lead  the  listener  to  fancy 
that  the  viewless  winds  might  for  once  be  seen.  For  a 
single  painful  instant,  in  one  of  those  disheartening  mo¬ 
ments  of  despair  that  wflll  come  over  the  stoutest,  his  hand 
was  about  to  relinquish  its  hold  of  the  baron,  and  to  make 
the  last  natural  struggle  for  life  ;  but  that  fair  and  modest 
picture  of  maiden  loveliness  and  truth,  which  had  so  long 
haunted  his  waking  hours  and  adorned  his  night-dreams, 
interposed  to  prevent  the  act.  After  this  brief  and  fleet¬ 
ing  weakness,  the  young  man  seemed  endowed  with  new 
energy.  He  swam  stronger,  and  with  greater  apparent 
advantage,  than  before. 

“  Nettuno  !  gallant  Nettuno  !  ”  again  drove  over  him, 
bringing  with  it  the  chilling  certainty,  that,  turned  from  his 
course  by  the  rolling  of  the  water,  he  had  thrown  away 
these  desperate  efforts,  by  taking  a  direction  which  led  him 
from  the  bark.  While  there  was  the  smallest  appearance 
of  success,  no  difficulties,  of  whatever  magnitude,  could  en¬ 
tirely  extinguish  hope  ;  but  when  the  dire  conviction  that 
he  had  been  actually  aiding,  instead  of  diminishing,  the 
danger,  pressed  upon  Sigismund,  he  abandoned  his  efforts. 
The  most  he  endeavored  or  hoped  to  achieve,  was  to  keep 
his  own  head  and  that  of  his  companion  above  the  fatal 
elemsnt,  while  he  answered  the  cry  of  Maso  with  a  shout 
of  despair. 

“  Nettuno  !  gallant  Nettuno  !  ”  again  flew  past  on  the 
gale. 


104 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


This  cry  might  have  been  an  answer,  or  it  might  merely 
be  the  Italian  encouraging  his  dog  to  bear  on  the  body, 
with  which  it  was  already  loaded.  Sigismund  uttered  a 
shout,  which  he  felt  must  be  the  last.  He  struggled  des¬ 
perately,  but  in  vain  :  the  world  and  its  allurements  were 
vanishing  from  his  thoughts,  when  a  dark  line  whirled  over 
him,  and  fell  thrashing  upon  the  very  wave  which  covered 
his  face.  An  instinctive  grasp  caught  it,  and  the  young 
soldier  felt  himself  impelled  ahead.  He  had  seized  the 
rope  which  the  mariner  had  not  ceased  to  throw,  as  the 
fisherman  casts  his  line,  and  he  was  at  the  side  of  the  bark, 
before  his  confused  faculties  enabled  him  to  understand  the 
means  employed  for  his  rescue. 

Maso  took  a  hasty  turn  with  the  rope,  and,  stooping 
forward,  favored  by  a  roll  of  the  vessel,  he  drew  the  Baron 
de  Willading  upon  deck.  Watching  his  time,  he  repeated 
the  experiment,  always  with  admirable  coolness  and  dex¬ 
terity,  placing  Sigismund  also  in  safety.  The  former  was 
immediately  dragged  senseless  to  the  centre  of  the  bark, 
where  he  received  those  attentions  that  had  just  been 
eagerly  offered  to  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  and  with  the  same 
happy  results.  But  Sigismund  motioned  all  away  from 
himself,  knowing  that  their  cares  were  needed  elsewhere. 
He  staggered  forward  a  few  paces,  and  then,  yielding  to 
a  complete  exhaustion  of  his  power,  he  fell  at  full  length  on 
the  wet  planks.  He  long  lay  panting,  speechless,  and 
unable  to  move,  with  a  sense  of  death  on  his  frame. 

“  Nettuno  !  gallant,  gallant  Nettuno  !  ”  shouted  the  in¬ 
defatigable  Maso,  still  at  his  post  on  the  gangway,  whence 
he  cast  his  rope  with  unchanging  perseverance.  The  fitful 
winds,  which  had  already  played  so  many  fierce  antics  that 
eventful  night,  sensibly  lulled,  and,  giving  one  or  two  sighs, 
as  if  regretting  that  they  were  about  to  be  curbed  again  by 
that  almighty  Master,  from  whose  benevolent  hands  they 
had  so  furtively  escaped,  as  suddenly  ceased  blowing.  The 
yards  creaked,  swinging  loosely  above  the  crowded  deck, 
and  the  dull  washing  of  water  filled  the  ear.  To  these 
diminished  sounds  were  to  be  added  the  barking  of  the 
dog,  who  was  still  abroad  in  the  darkness,  and  a  struggling 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


105 


noise  like  the  broken  and  smothered  attempts  of  human 
voices.  Although  the  time  appeared  an  age  to  all  who 
awaited  the  result,  scarcely  five  minutes  had  elapsed  since 
the  accident  occurred  and  the  hurricane  had  reached  them. 
There  was  still  hope,  therefore,  for  those  who  yet  remained 
in  the  water.  Maso  felt  the  eagerness  of  one  who  had 
already  been  successful  beyond  his  hopes,  and,  in  his  desire 
to  catch  some  guiding  signal,  he  leaned  forward,  till  the 
rolling  lake  washed  into  his  face. 

“  Ha !  gallant,  gallant  Nettuno  !  ” 

Men  certainly  spoke,  and  that  near  him.  But  the  sounds 
resembled  words  uttered  beneath  a  cover.  The  wind 
whistled,  too,  though  but  for  a  moment,  and  then  it  seemed 
to  sail  upward  into  the  dark  vault  of  the  heayens.  Nettuno 
barked  audibly,  and  his  master  answered  with  another 
shout,  for  the  sympathy  of'  man  in  his  kind  is  inextinguish¬ 
able. 

“  My  brave,  my  noble  Nettuno  !  ” 

The  stillness  was  now  imposing,  and  Maso  heard  the  dog 
growl.  This  ill-omened  signal  was  undeniably  followed  by 
smothered  voices.  The  latter  became  clearer,  as  if  the 
mocking  winds  were  willing  that  a  sad  exhibition  of  human 
frailty  should  be  known,  or,  what  is  more  probable,  violent 
passion  had  awakened  stronger  powers  of  speech.  This 
much  the  mariner  understood. 

“  Loosen  thy  grasp,  accursed  Baptiste  !  ” 

“  Wretch,  loosen  thine  own  !  ” 

“  Is  God  naught  with  thee  ?  ” 

o 


“  Why  dost  throttle  so,  infernal  Nicklaus  ?  ” 

“  Thou  wilt  die  damned  !  ” 

“  Thou  chokest  —  villain  —  pardon  !  —  pardon  !  ” 

He  beared  no  more.  The  merciful  elements  interposed 
to  drown  the  appalling  strife.  Once  or  twice  the  dog 
howled,  but  the  tempest  came  across  the  Leman  again  in  its 
might,  as  if  the  short  pause  had  been  made  merely  to  take 
breath.  The  winds  took  a  new  direction ;  and  the  bark, 
still  held  by  its  anchors,  swung  wide  ofif  from  its  former 
position,  tending  in  towards  the  mountains  of  Savoy.  Dur¬ 
ing  the  first  burst  of  this  new  blast,  even  Maso  was  glad  to 


106 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


crouch  to  the  deck,  for  millions  of  infinitely  fine  particles 
were  lifted  from  the  lake,  and  driven  on  with  the  atmos¬ 
phere  with  a  violence  to  take  away  his  breath.  The  danger 
of  being  swept  before  the  furious  tide  of  the  driving  ele¬ 
ment  was  also  an  accident  not  impossible.  When  the  lull 
returned,  no  exertion  of  his  faculties  could  catch  a  single 
sound  foreign  to  the  proper  character  of  the  scene,  such  as 
the  plash  of  the  water,  and  the  creaking  of  the  long,  swing¬ 
ing  yards. 

The  mariner  now  felt  a  deep  concern  for  his  dog.  He 
called  to  him  until  he  grew  hoarse,  but  fruitlessly.  The 
change  of  position,  with  the  constant  and  varying  drift  of 
the  vessel,  had  carried  them  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human 
voice.  More  time  was  expended  in  summoning  “  Nettuno  ! 
gallant  Nettuno !  ”  than  had  been  consumed  in  the  passage 
of  all  the  events  which  it  has  been  necessary  to  our  object 
to  relate  so  minutely,  and  always  with  the  same  want  of 
success.  The  mind  of  Maso  was  pitched  to  a  degree  far 
above  the  opinions  and  habits  of  those  with  whom  his  life 
brought  him  ordinarily  in  contact,  but,  as  even  fine  gold 
will  become  tarnished  by  exposure  to  impure  air,  he  had 
not  entirely  escaped  the  habitual  weaknesses  of  the  Italians 
of  his  class.  When  he  found  that  no  cry  could  recall  his 
faithful  companion,  he  threw  himself  upon  the  deck  in  a 
paroxysm  of  passion,  tore  his  hair,  and  wept  audibly. 

“  Nettuno  !  my  brave,  my  faithful  Nettuno  !  ”  he  said. 
“  What  are  all  these  to  me,  without  thee !  Thou  alone 
lovedst  me  —  thou  alone  hast  passed  with  me  through  fair 
and  foul  —  through  good  and  evil,  without  change,  or  wish 
for  another  master  !  When  the  pretended  friend  has  been 
false,  thou  hast  remained  faithful !  When  others  were  syco¬ 
phants,  thou  wert  never  a  flatterer  !  ” 

Struck  with  this  singular  exhibition  of  sorrow,  the  good 
Augustine,  who  until  now,  like  all  the  others,  had  been 
looking  to  his  own  safety  or  employed  in  restoring  the  ex¬ 
hausted,  took  advantage  of  the  favorable  change  in  the 
weather,  and  advanced  with  the  language  of  consolation. 

“  Thou  hast  saved  all  our  lives,  bold  mariner,”  he  said, 
“and  there  are  those  in  the  bark  who  will  know  how  fa 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


107 


reward  thy  courage  and  skill.  Forget  then  thy  dog,  and  in¬ 
dulge  in  a  grateful  heart  to  Maria  and  the  saints,  that  they 
have  been  our  friends  and  thine  in  this  exceeding  jeopardy.” 

“  Father,  I  have  eaten  with  the  animal  — slept  with  the 
animal  - —  fought,  swam,  and  made  merry  with  him,  and  I 
could  now  drown  with  him !  What  are  thy  nobles  and 
their  gold  to  me,  without  my  dog  ?  The  gallant  brute  will 
die  the  death  of  despair,  swimming  about  in  search  of  the 
bark  in  the  midst  of  the  darkness,  until  even  one  of  his 
high  breed  and  courage  must  suffer  his  heart  to  burst.” 

“  Christians  have  been  called  into  the  dread  presence, 
unconfessed  and  unshrived,  to-night ;  and  we  should  be¬ 
think  us  of  their  souls,  rather  than  indulge  in  this  grief  in 
behalf  of  one  that,  however  faithful,  ends  but  an  unreason¬ 
ing  and  irresponsible  existence.” 

All  this  was  thrown  away  upon  Maso,  who  crossed  him¬ 
self  habitually  at  the  allu'sion  to  the  drowned,  but  who  did 
not  the  less  bewail  the  loss  of  his  dog,  whom  he  seemed  to 
love,  like  the  affection  that  David  bore  for  Jonathan,  with  a 
love  surpassing  that  of  women.  Perceiving  that  his  counsel 
was  useless,  the  good  Augustine  turned  away,  to  kneel  and 
offer  up  his  own  prayers  of  gratitude,  and  to  bethink  him 
of  the  dead. 

“  Nettuno  !  povera,  carissima  bestia  !  ”  continued  Maso, 
u  whither  art  thou  swimming,  in  this  infernal  quarrel  be¬ 
tween  the  air  and  water  ?  Would  I  were  with  thee,  dog  ! 
No  mortal  shall  ever  share  the  love  I  bore  thee,  povero 
Nettuno  !  I  will  never  take  another  to  my  heart,  like 
thee  !  ” 

The  outbreaking  of  Maso’s  grief  was  sudden,  and  it  was 
brief  in  its  duration.  In  this  respect  it  might  be  likened  to 
the  hurricane  that  had  just  passed.  Excessive  violence,  in 
both  cases,  appeared  to  bring  its  own  remedy,  for  the  irreg¬ 
ular,  fitful  gusts  from  the  mountains  had  already  ceased,  and 
were  succeeded  by  a  strong  but  steady  gale  from  the  north  ; 
and  the  sorrow  of  Maso  soon  ended  its  characteristic  plaints, 
to  take  a  more  continued  and  even  character. 

During  the  whole  of  the  foregoing  scenes,  the  common 
passengers  had  crouched  to  the  deck,  partly  in  stupor,  partly 


108 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


in  superstitious  dread,  and  much  of  the  time,  from  a  posi¬ 
tive  inability  to  move  without  incurring  the  risk  of  being 
driven  from  the  defenseless  vessel  into  the  lake.  But,  as 
the  wind  diminished  in  force,  and  the  motion  of  the  bark 
became  more  regular,  they  rallied  their  senses,  like  men  who 
had  been  in  a  trance,  and  one  by  one  they  rose  to  their  feet. 
About  this  time  Adelheid  heard  the  sound  of  her  father’s 
voice,  blessing  her  care,  and  consoling  her  sorrow.  The 
north  wind  blew  away  the  canopy  of  clouds,  and  the  stars 
shone  upon  the  angry  Leman,  bringing  with  them  some  such 
promise  of  divine  aid  as  the  pillar  of  fire  afforded  to  the 
Israelites  in  their  passage  of  the  Red  Sea.  Such  an  evi¬ 
dence  of  returning  peace  brought  renewed  confidence.  All 
in  the  bark,  passengers  as  well  as  crew,  took  courage  at  the 
benignant  signs,  while  Adelheid  wept,  in  gratitude  and  joy, 
over  the  gray  hairs  of  her  father. 

Maso  had  now  obtained  complete  command  .of  the  Win- 
kelried,  as  much  by  the  necessity  of  the  case,  as  by  the  un¬ 
rivaled  skill  and  courage  he  had  manifested  during  the  fear¬ 
ful  minutes  of  their  extreme  jeopardy.  No  sooner  did  he 
succeed  in  staying  his  own  grief,  than  he  called  the  people 
about  him,  and  issued  his  orders  for  the  new  measures  that 
had  become  necessary. 

All  who  have  ever  been  subject  to  their  influence  know 
that  there  is  nothing  more  uncertain  than  the  winds.  Their 
fickleness  has  passed  into  a  proverb ;  but  their  inconstancy, 
as  well  as  their  power,  from  the  fanning  air  to  the  destruc¬ 
tive  tornado,  are  to  be  traced  to  causes  that  are  sufficiently 
clear,  though  hid  in  their  nature  from  the  calculations  of  our 
forethought.  The  tempest  of  the  night  was  owing  to  the 
simple  fact,  that  a  condensed  and  chilled  column  of  air  from 
the  mountains  had  pressed  upon  the  heated  substratum  of 
the  lake,  and  the  latter,  after  a  long  resistance,  suddenly 
finding  vent  for  its  escape,  had  been  obliged  to  let  in  the 
cataract  from  above.  As  in  all  extraordinary  efforts, 
whether  physical  or  moral,  reaction  would  seem  to  be  a  con¬ 
sequence  of  excessive  action,  the  currents  of  air,  pushed  be¬ 
yond  their  proper  limits,  were  now  setting  back  again,  like 
a  tide  on  its  reflux.  This  cause  produced  the  northern  gale 
that  succeeded  the  hurricane. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


109 


The  wind  that  came  from  off  the  shores  of  Vaud  was 
steady  and  fresh.  The  barks  of  the  Leman  are  not  con¬ 
structed  for  beating  to  windward,  and  it  might  even  have 
been  questioned,  whether  the  Winkleried  would  have  borne 
her  canvas  against  so  heavy  a  breeze.  Maso,  however, 
appeared  to  understand  himself  thoroughly,  and  as  he  had 
acquired  the  influence  which  hardihood  and  skill  are  sure  to 
obtain  over  doubt  and  timidity  in  situations  of  hazard,  he 
was  obeyed  by  all  on  board  with  submission,  if  not  with 
zeal.  No  more  was  heard  of  the  headsman  or  of  his  sup¬ 
posed  agency  in  the  storm  ;  and,  as  he  prudently  kept  him¬ 
self  in  the  background,  so  as  not  to  endanger  a  revival  of 
the  superstition  of  his  enemies,  he  seemed  entirely  forgotten. 

The  business  of  getting  the  anchors  occupied  a  consider¬ 
able  time,  for  Maso  refused,  now  there  existed  no  necessity 
for  the  sacrifice,  to  permit  a  yarn  to  be  cut ;  but,  released 
from  this  hold  on  the  water,  the  bark  whirled  away,  and 
was  soon  driving  before  the  wind.  The  mariner  was  at  the 
helm,  and  causing  the  head-sail  to  be  loosened,  he  steered 
directly  for  the  rocks  of  Savoy.  This  manoeuvre  excited 
disagreeable  suspicions  in  the  minds  of  several  on  board,  for 
the  lawless  character  of  their  pilot  had  been  more  than  sus¬ 
pected  in  the  course  of  their  short  acquaintance,  and  the 
coast  towards  which  they  were  furiously  rushing  was 
known  to  be  iron-bound,  and  in  such  a  gale  fatal  to  all  who 
came  rudely  upon  its  rocks.  Half  an  hour  removed  their 
apprehensions.  When  near  enough  to  the  mountains  to  feel 
their  deadening  influence  on  the  gale,  the  natural  effect  of 
the  eddies  formed  by  their  resistance  to  the  currents,  he 
luffed-to  and  set  his  main-sail.  Relieved  by  this  wise  pre¬ 
caution,  the  Winkelried  now  wore  her  canvas  gallantly,  and 
she  danced  along  the  shore  of  Savoy  with  a  foaming  beak, 
shooting  past  ravine,  valley,  glen,  and  hamlet,  as  if  sailing 
in  air. 

In  less  than  an  hour,  St.  Gingoulph,  or  the  village 
through  which  the  dividing  line  between  the  territories  of 
Switzerland  and  those  of  the  King  of  Sardinia  passes,  was 
abeam,  and  the  excellent  calculations  of  the  sagacious  Maso 
became  still  more  apparent.  He  had  foreseen  another  shift 


110 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  wind,  as  the  consequence  of  all  this  poise  and  counter¬ 
poise,  and  he  was  here  met  by  the  true  breeze  of  the  night. 
The  last  current  came  out  of  the  gorge  of  the  Valais,  sullen, 
strong,  and  hoarse,  bringing  him,  however,  fairly  to  wind¬ 
ward  of  his  port.  The  AVinkelried  was  cast  in  season,  and 
when  the  gale  struck  her  anew,  her  canvas  drew  fairly,  and 
she  walked  out  from  beneath  the  mountains  into  the  broad 
lake,  like  a  swan  obeying  its  instinct. 

The  passage  across  the  width  of  the  Leman,  in  that  horn 
of  the  crescent  and  in  such  a  breeze,  required  rather  more 
than  an  hour.  This  time  was  occupied  among  the  common 
herd  in  self-felicitations,  and  in  those  vain  boastings  that 
distinguish  the  vulgar  who  have  escaped  an  imminent  dan¬ 
ger  without  any  particular  merit  of  their  own.  Among 
those  whose  spirits  were  better  trained  and  more  rebuked, 
there  were  attentions  to  the  sufferers,  and  deep  thanksgiv¬ 
ings,  with  the  touching  intercourse  of  the  grateful  and  happy. 
The  late  scenes,  and  the  fearful  fate  of  the  patron  and  Nick- 
laus  Wagner,  cast  a  shade  upon  their  joy,  but  ail  inwardly 
felt  that  they  had  been  snatched  from  the  jaws  of  death. 

Maso  shaped  his  course  by  the  beacon  that  still  blazed  in 
the  grate  of  old  Roger  de  Blonay.  With  his  eye  riveted  on 
the  luff  of  his  sail,  his  hip  bearing  hard  against  the  tiller, 
and  a  heart  that  relieved  itself,  from  time  to  time,  with  bit¬ 
ter  sighs,  he  ruled  the  bark  like  a  presiding  spirit. 

At  length  the  black  mass  of  the  cotes  of  Vaud  took  more 
distinct  and  regular  forms.  Here  and  there,  a  tower  or  a 
tree  betrayed  its  outlines  against  the  sky,  and  then  the  ob¬ 
jects  on  the  margin  of  the  lake  began  to  stand  out  in  gloomy 
relief  from  the  land.  Lights  flared  along  the  strand,  and 
cries  reached  them  from  the  shore.  A  dark,  shapeless  pile 
stood  directly  athwart  their  watery  path,  and  at  the  next 
moment  it  took  the  aspect  of  a  ruined-castle-like  edifice. 
The  canvas  flapped  and  was  handed,  the  Winkelried  rose 
and  set  more  slowly  and  with  a  gentler  movement,  and 
glided  into  the  little,  secure,  artificial  haven  of  La  Tour  de 
Peil.  A  forest  of  latine  yards  and  low  masts  lay  before 
them,  but  by  giving  the  bark  a  rank  sheer,  Maso  brought 
her  to  her  berth,  by  the  side  of  another  lake  craft,  with  a 


THE  HEADSMAN.  Ill 

gentleness  of  collision  that,  as  the  mariners  have  it,  would 
not  have  broken  an  egg. 

A  hundred  voices  greeted  the  travellers  ;  for  their  ap¬ 
proach  had  been  seen  and  watched  with  intense  anxiety. 
Fifty  eager  Vevaisans  poured  upon  her  deck  in  a  noisy 
crowd  the  instant  it  was  possible.  Among  others,  a  dark, 
shaggy  object  bounded  foremost.  It  leaped  wildly  forward, 
and  Maso  found  himself  in  the  embraces  of  Nettuno.  A 
little  later,  when  delight  and  a  more  tempered  feeling  per¬ 
mitted  examination,  a  lock  of  human  hair  was  discovered 
entangled  in  the  teeth  of  the  dog,  and  the  following  week 
the  bodies  of  Baptiste  and  the  peasant  of  Berne  were  found 
still  clenched  in  the  desperate  death-gripe,  washed  upon  the 
shores  of  Vaud. 


112 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  moon  is  up  ;  by  Heaven,  a  lovely  eve ! 

Long  streams  of  light  o’er  glancing  waves  expand ; 

Now  lads  on  shore  may  sigh  and  maids  believe; 

Such  be  our  fate  when  we  return  to  land ! 

Byron. 

The  approach  of  the  Winkelried  had  been  seen  from 
Vevey  throughout  the  afternoon  and  evening.  The  arrival 
of  the  Baron  de  Willading  and  his  daughter  was  expected 
by  many  in  the  town,  the  rank  and  influence  of  the  former 
in  the  great  canton  rendering  him  an  object  of  interest  to 
more  than  those  who  felt  affection  for  his  person  and  re¬ 
spect  for  his  upright  qualities.  Roger  de  Blonay  had  not 
been  his  only  youthful  friend,  for  the  place  contained 
another,  with  whom  he  was  intimate  by  habit,  if  not  from 
a  community  of  those  principles  which  are  the  best  cement 
of  friendships. 

The  officer  charged  with  the  especial  supervision  of  the 
districts  or  circles  into  which  Berne  had  caused  its  depend¬ 
ent  territory  of  Vaud  to  be  divided,  was  termed  a  bailli,  a 
title  that  our  word  bailiff  will  scarcely  render,  except  as  it 
may  strictly  mean  a  substitute  for  the  exercise  of  authority 
that  is  the  property  of  another,  but  which,  for  the  want  of  a 
better  term,  we  may  be  compelled  occasionally  to  use.  The 
bailli,  or  bailiff,  of  Vevey  was  Peter  Hofmeister,  a  member 
of  one  of  those  families  of  the  biirgerschaft,  or  the  munici 
pal  aristocracy  of  the  canton,  which  found  its  institutions 
venerable,  just,  and,  if  one  might  judge  from  their  lan¬ 
guage,  almost  sacred,  simply  because  it  had  been  in  pos¬ 
session  of  certain  exclusive  privileges  under  their  authority, 
that  were  not  only  comfortable  in  their  exercise,  but  fecund 
in  other  worldly  advantages.  This  Peter  Hofmeister  was, 
in  the  main,  a  hearty,  well-meaning,  and  somewhat  benevo- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


113 


lent  person,  but,  living  as  be  did  under  the  secret  conscious¬ 
ness  that  all  was  not  as  it  should  be,  he  pushed  his  opinions 
on  the  subject  of  vested  interests,  and  on  the  stability  of 
temporal  matters,  a  little  into  extremes,  pretty  much  on  the 
same  principle  as  that  on  which  the  engineer  expends  the 
largest  portion  of  his  art  in  fortifying  the  weakest  point  of 
the  citadel,  taking  care  that  there  shall  be  a  constant  flight 
of  shot,  great  and  small,  across  the  most  accessible  of  its 
approaches.  By  one  of  the  exclusive  ordinances  of  those 
times,  in  which  men  were  glad  to  get  relief  from  the  vio¬ 
lence  and  rapacity  of  the  baron  and  the  satellite  of  the 
prince,  ordinances  that  it  was  the  fashion  of  the  day  to  term 
liberty,  the  family  of  Hofmeister  had  come  into  the  exer¬ 
cise  of  a  certain  charge,  or  monopoly,  that  in  truth  had 
always  constituted  its  wealth  and  importance,  but  of  which 
it  was  accustomed  to  speak  as  forming  its  principal  claim  to 
the  gratitude  of  the  public,  for  duties  that  had  been  per¬ 
formed  not  only  so  well,  but  for  so  long  a  period,  by  an  un¬ 
broken  succession  of  patriots  descended  from  the  same  stock. 
They  who  judged  of  the  value  attached  to  the  possession 
of  this  charge,  by  the  animation  with  which  all  attempts  to 
relieve  them  of  the  burden  were  repelled,  must  have  been 
in  error  ;  for,  to  hear  their  friends  descant  on  the  difficulties 
of  the  duties,  of  the  utter  impossibility  that  they  should  be 
properly  discharged  by  any  family  that  had  not  been  in 
their  exercise  just  one  hundred  and  seventy-two  years  and 
a  half,  the  precise  period  of  the  hard  servitude  of  the  Hof- 
meisters,  and  the  rare  merit  of  their  self-devotion  to  the 
common  good,  it  would  seem  that  they  were  so  many 
modern  Curtii,  anxious  to  leap  into  the  chasm  of  uncertain 
and.  endless  toil,  to  save  the  republic  from  the  ignorance 
and  peculations  of  certain  interested  and  selflsh  knaves,  who 
wished  to  enjoy  the  same  high  trusts,  for  a  motive  so  un¬ 
worthy  as  that  of  their  own  particular  advantage.  This 
subject  apart,  however,  and  with  a  strong  reservation  in 
favor  of  the  supremacy  of  Berne,  on  whom  his  importance 
depended,  a  better  or  a  more  philanthropic  man  than  Petei 
Hofmeister  would  not  have  been  easily  found.  He  was  a 

hearty  laugher,  a  hard  drinker  (a  common  and  peculiar  fail- 
'  8 


114 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


mg  of  the  age),  a  great  respecter  of  the  law,  as  was  meet 
in  one  so  situated,  and  a  bachelor  of  sixty-eight,  a  time  of 
life  that,  by  referring  his  education  to  a  period  more  remote 
by  half  a  century  than  that  in  which  the  incidents  of  our 
legend  took  place,  was  not  at  all  in  favor  of  any  very  ro¬ 
mantic  predilection  in  behalf  of  the  rest  of  the  human  race. 
In  short,  the  Herr  Ilofmeister  was  a  bailiff,  much  as  Baltha¬ 
zar  was  a  headsman,  on  account  of  some  particular  merit  or 
demerit  (it  might  now  be  difficult  to  say  which)  of  one  of 
his  ancestors,  by  the  laws  of  the  canton,  and  by  the  opin¬ 
ions  of  men.  The  only  material  difference  between  them 
was  in  the  fact,  that  the  one  greatly  enjoyed  his  station, 
while  the  other  had  but  an  indifferent  relish  for  his  trust. 

When  Roger  de  Blonay,  by  the  aid  of  a  good  glass,  had 
assured  himself  that  the  bark  which  lay  off  St.  Saphorin,  in 
the  even-tide,  with  yards  a-cockbill,  and  sails  pendent  in 
their  picturesque  drapery,  contained  a  party  of  gentle 
travellers  who  occupied  the  stern,  and  saw  by  the  plumes 
and  robes  that  a  female  of  condition  was  among  them,  he 
gave  an  order  to  prepare  the  beacon-fire,  and  descended  to 
the  port,  in  order  to  be  in  readiness  to  receive  his  friend. 
Here  he  found  the  bailiff,  pacing  the  public  promenade, 
which  is  washed  by  the  limpid  water  of  the  lake,  with  the 
air  of  a  man  who  had  more  on  his  mind  than  the  daily  cares 
of  office.  Although  the  Baron  de  Blonay  was  a  Vaudois, 
and  looked  upon  all  the  functionaries  of  his  country’s  con¬ 
querors  with  a  species  of  hereditary  dislike,  he  was  by  na¬ 
ture  a  man  of  mild  and  courteous  qualities,  and  the  meeting 
was,  as  usual,  friendly  in  the  externals,  and  of  seeming  cor¬ 
diality.  Great  care  was  had  by  both  to  speak  in  the  second 
person  ;  on  the  part  of  the  Vaudois,  that  it  might  be  seen 
he  valued  himself  as,  at  least,  the  equal  of  the  representa¬ 
tive  of  Berne,  and,  on  that  of  the  bailiff,  in  order  to  show 
that  his  office  made  him  as  good  as  the  head  of  the  oldest 
house  in  all  that  region. 

“  Thou  expectest  to  see  friends  from  Genf  in  yonder 
bark  ?  ”  said  the  Herr  Hofmeister,  abruptly. 

“  And  thou  ?  ” 

u  A  friend,  and  one  more  than  a  friend,”  answered  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


115 


bailiff  evasively.  “  My  advices  tell  me  that  Melchior  de 
Willading  will  sojourn  among  us  during  the  festival  of  the 
abbaye,  and  secret  notice  has  been  sent  that  there  will  be 
another  here  who  wishes  to  see  our  merry-making,  without 
pretension  to  the  honors  that  he  might  fairly  claim.” 

“  It  is  not  rare  for  nobles  of  mark,  and  even  princes,  to 
visit  us  on  these  occasions,  under  feigned  names  and  with¬ 
out  the  eclat  of  their  rank  ;  for  the  great,  when  they  de¬ 
scend  to  follies,  seldom  like  to  bring  their  high  condition 
within  their  influence.” 

“  The  wiser  they.  I  have  my  own  troubles  with  these 
accursed  fooleries,  for  —  it  may  be  a  weakness,  but  it  is  one 
that  is  official  —  I  cannot  help  imagining  that  a  bailiff  cuts 
but  a  shabby  figure  before  the  people  in  the  presence  of  so 
many  gods  and  goddesses.  To  own  to  thee  the  truth,  I 
rejoice  that  he  who  cometh,  cometh  as  he  doth.  Hast 
letters  of  late  date  from  Berne  ?  ” 

“  None  ;  though  report  says  that  there  is  like  to  be  a 
change  among  some  of  those  who  fill  the  public  trusts.” 

“  So  much  the  worse  !  ”  growled  the  bailiff.  “  Is  it  to 
be  expected  that  men  who  never  did  an  hour’s  duty  in  a 
charge  can  acquit  themselves  like  those  who  have,  it  might 
be  said,  sucked  in  practice  with  their  mother’s  milk  ?  ” 

“  Aye  ;  this  is  well  enough  for  thee  ;  but  others  say  that 
even  the  Erlachs  had  a  beginning.” 

“  Himmel !  Am  I  a  heathen,  to  deny  this  ?  As  many 
beginnings  as  thou  wilt,  good  Roger,  but  I  like  not  thy 
ends.  No  doubt  an  Erlach  is  mortal,  like  all  of  us,  and 
even  a  created  being  ;  but  a  man  is  not  a  charge.  Let  the 
clay  die,  if  thou  wilt,  but,  if  thou  wouldst  have  faithful  or 
skillful  servants,  look  to  the  true  successor.  But  we  will 
have  none  of  this  to-day.  Hast  many  guests  at  Blonay  ?  ” 
u  Not  one.  I  look  for  the  company  of  Melchior  de  Wil¬ 
lading  and  his  daughter  —  and  yet  I  like  not  the  time  ! 
There  are  evil  signs  playing  about  the  high  peaks  and  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Dents  since  the  sun  has  set !  ” 

“  Thou  art  ever  in  a  storm  up  in  thy  castle  there  !  The 
Leman  was  never  more  peaceable,  and  I  should  take  it 
truly  in  evil  part,  were  the  rebellious  lake  to  get  into  one 


116 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  its  fits  of  sudden  anger  with  so  precious  a  freight  on  its 
bosom.” 

“  I  do  not  think  the  Genfer  See  will  regard  even  a 

o 

bailiff’s  displeasure  !  ”  rejoined  the  Baron  de  Blonay,  laugh¬ 
ing.  “  I  repeat  it ;  the  signs  are  suspicious.  Let  us  con¬ 
sult  the  watermen,  for  it  may  be  well  to  send  a  light-pulling 
boat  to  bring  the  travellers  to  land.” 

Roger  de  Blonay  and  the  bailiff  walked  towards  the  lit¬ 
tle  earthen  mole  that  partially  protects  the  roadstead  of 
Vevey,  and  which  is  forever  forming  and  forever  washing 
away  before  the  storms  of  winter,  in  order  to  consult  some 
of  those  who  were  believed  to  be  expert  in  detecting  the 
symptoms  that  preceded  any  important  changes  of  the 
atmosphere.  The  opinions  were  various.  Most  believed 
there  would  be  a  gust ;  but,  as  the  Winkelried  was  known 
to  be  a  new  and  well-built  bark,  and  none  could  tell  how 
much  beyond  her  powers  she  had  been  loaded  by  the  cu¬ 
pidity  of  Baptiste,  and  as  it  was  generally  thought  the  wind 
would  be  as  likely  to  bring  her  up  to  her  haven  as  to  be 
against  her,  there  appeared  no  sufficient  reason  for  sending 
off  the  boat ;  especially  as  it  was  believed  the  bark  would 
be  not  only  drier  but  safer  than  a  smaller  craft,  should  they 
be  overtaken  by  the  wind.  This  indecision,  so  common  in 
cases  of  uncertainty,  was  the  means  of  exposing  Adelheid 
and  her  father  to  all  those  fearful  risks  they  had  just  run. 

When  the  night  came  on,  the  people  of  the  town  began 
to  understand  that  the  tempest  would  be  grave  to  those  who 
were  obliged  to  encounter  it,  even  in  the  best  bark  on  the 
Leman.  The  darkness  added  to  the  danger,  for  vessels  had 
often  run  against  the  land  by  miscalculating  their  distances ; 
and  the  lights  were  shown  along  the  strand,  by  order  of  the 
bailiff’,  who  manifested  an  interest  so  unusual  in  those  on 
board  the  Winkelried,  as  to  draw  about  them  more  than  the 
sympathy  that  would  ordinarily  be  felt  for  travellers  in  dis¬ 
tress.  Every  exertion  that  the  case  admitted  was  made  in 
their  behalf,  and  the  moment  the  state  of  the  lake  allowed, 
boats  were  sent  off,  in  every  probable  direction,  to  their 
succor.  But  the  Winkelried  was  running  along  the  coast 
of  Savoy  ere  any  ventured  forth,  and  the  search  proved 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


117 


fruitless.  When  the  rumor  spread,  however,  that  a  sail  was 
to  be  discerned  coming  out  from  under  the  wide  shadow  of 
the  opposite  mountains,  and  that  it  was  steering  for  La 
Tour  de  Peil,  a  village  with  a  far  safer  harbor  than  that  of 
Vevey,  and  but  an  arrow’s  flight  from  the  latter  town, 
crowds  rushed  to  the  spot.  The  instant  it  was  known 
that  the  missing  party  was  in  her,  the  travellers  were  re¬ 
ceived  with  cheers  of  delight,  and  cries  of' hearty  greeting. 

The  bailiff  and  Roger  de  Blonay  hastened  forward  to  re¬ 
ceive  the  Baron  de  Willading  and  his  friends,  who  were 
carried  in  a  tumultuous  and  joyful  manner  into  the  old 
castle  that  adjoins  the  port,  and  from  which,  in  truth,  the 
latter  derives  its  name.  The  Bernois  noble  was  too  much 
affected  with  the  scenes  through  which  he  had  so  lately 
passed,  and  with  the  strong  and  ungovernable  tenderness  of 
Adelheid,  who  had  wept  over  him  as  a  mother  sobs  over  her 
recovered  child,  to  exchange  greetings  with  him  of  Vaud,  in 
the  hearty,  cordial  manner  that  ordinarily  characterized  their 
meetings.  Still  their  peculiar  habits  shone  through  the  re¬ 
straint. 

“  Thou  seest  me  just  rescued  from  the  fishes  of  thy  Le¬ 
man,  dear  De  Blonay,”  he  said,  squeezing  the  other’s  hand 
with  emotion,  as,  leaning  on  his  shoulder,  they  went  into 
the  chateau.  “  But  for  yonder  brave  youth,  and  as  honest 
a  mariner  as  ever  floated  on  water,  fresh  or  salt,  all  that  is 
left  of  old  Melchior  de  Willading  would,  at  this  moment,  be 
of  less  value  than  the  meanest  fera  in  thy  lake.” 

“  God  be  praised  that  thou  art  as  we  see  thee !  We 
feared  for  thee,  and  boats  are  out  at  this  moment  in  search 
of  thy  bark  :  but  it  has  been  wiser  ordered.  This  brave 
young  man,  who,  I  see,  is  both  a  Swiss  and  a  soldier,  is 
doubly  welcome  among  us  —  in  the  two  characters  just 
named,  and  as  one  that  hath  done  thee  and  us  so  great  a 
service.” 

Sigismund  received  the  compliments  which  he  so  well 
merited,  with  modesty.  The  bailiff,  however,  not  content 
with  making  the  usual  felicitations,  whispered  in  his  ear 
that  a  service  like  this,  rendered  to  one  of  its  most  esteemed 
nobles,  would  not  be  forgotten  by  the  Councils  on  a  proper 
occasion. 


118 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Thou  art  happily  arrived,  Ilerr  Melchior,”  he  then 
added,  aloud  ;  “  come  as  thou  wilt,  floating  or  sailing  in  air. 
We  have  thee  among  us  none  the  worse  for  the  accident, 
and  we  thank  God,  as  Roger  de  Blonay  has  just  so  well 
observed.  Our  abbaye  is  like  to  be  a  gallant  ceremony, 
for  divers  gentlemen  of  name  are  in  town,  and  I  hear  of 
more  that  are  pricking  forward  among  the  mountains  from 
countries  beyond  the  Rhine.  Hadst  thou  no  other  compan¬ 
ions  in  the  bark  but  these  I  see  around  us  ?  ” 

“  There  is  another,  and  I  wonder  that  he  is  not  here ! 
’Tis  a  noble  Genoese,  that  thou  hast  often  heard  me  name, 
Sire  de  Blonay,  as  one  that  I  love.  Gaetano  Grimaldi  is  a 
name  familiar  to  thee,  or  the  words  of  friendship  have  been 
uttered  in  an  idle  ear.” 

“  I  have  heard  so  much  of  the  Italian  that  I  can  almost 
fancy  him  an  old  and  tried  acquaintance.  When  thou  first 
returnedst  from  the  Italian  wars,  thy  tongue  was  never 
weary  of  recounting  his  praises :  it  was  Gaetano  said  this 
—  Gaetano  thought  thus  —  Gaetano  did  that !  Surely  he  is 
not  of  thy  company  ?  ” 

“  He,  and  no  other  !  A  lucky  meeting  on  the  quay  of 
Genf  brought  us  together  again  after  a  separation  of  full 
thirty  years,  and,  as  if  Heaven  had  reserved  its  trials  for  the 
occasion,  we  have  been  made  to  go  through  the  late  danger 
in  company.  I  had  him  in  my  arms  in  that  fearful  moment, 
Roger,  when  the  sky,  and  the  mountains,  and  all  of  earth, 
even  to  that  dear  girl,  were  fading,  as  I  thought  forever, 
from  my  sight,  —  he,  that  had  already  been  my  partner  in 
so  many  risks,  who  had  bled  for  me,  watched  for  me,  ridden 
for  me,  and  did  all  other  things  that  love  could  prompt  for 
me,  was  brought  by  Providence  to  be  my  companion  in  the 
awful  strait  through  which  I  have  just  passed  !  ” 

While  the  baron  was  still  speaking,  his  friend  entered 
with  the  quiet  and  dignified  mien  he  always  maintained, 
when  it  was  not  his  pleasure  to  throw  aside  the  reserve  of 
high  station,  or  when  he  yielded  to  the  torrent  of  feeling 
that  sometimes  poured  through  his  southern  temperament, 
in  a  way  to  unsettle  the  deportment  of  mere  convention. 
He  was  presented  to  Roger  de  Blonay  and  the  bailiff,  as 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


119 


the  person  just  alluded  to,  and  as  the  oldest  and  most  tried 
of  the  friends  of  his  introducer.  His  reception  by  the  former 
was  natural  and  warm,  while  the  Herr  Hofmeister  was  so 
particular  in  his  professions  of  pleasure  and  respect,  as  to 
excite  not  only  notice  but  surprise. 

“  Thanks,  thanks,  good  Peterchen,”  said  the  Baron  de 
Willading,  for  such  was  the  familiar  diminutive  by  which 
the  bustling  bailiff  was  usually  addressed,  by  those  who 
could  take  the  liberty,  “  thanks,  honest  Peterchen ;  thy 
kindness  to  Gaetano  is  so  much  love  shown  to  myself.” 

“  I  honor  thy  friends  as  thyself,  Herr  von  Willading,”  re¬ 
turned  the  bailiff,  “  for  thou  hast  a  claim  to  the  esteem  of 
the  biirgerschaft  and  all  its  servants  ;  but  the  homage  paid 
to  the  Signor  Grimaldi  is  due  on  his  own  account.  We  are 
but  poor  Swiss,  that  dwell  in  the  midst  of  wild  mountains, 
little  favored  by  the  sun  if  ve  will,  and  less  known  to  the 
world  ;  but  we  have  our  manners  !  A  man  that  hath  been 
intrusted  with  authority  as  long  as  I,  were  unfit  for  his  trust 
did  he  not  tell,  as  it  might  be  by  instinct,  when  he  has  those 
in  his  presence  that  are  to  be  honored.  Signore,  the  loss  of 
Melchior  von  Willading  before  our  haven,  would  have  made 
the  lake  unpleasant  to  us  all  for  months,  not  to  say  years ; 
but  had  so  great  a  calamity  arrived  as  that  of  your  death  by 
means  of  our  waters,  I  could  have  prayed  that  the  moun¬ 
tains  might  fall  into  the  basin,  and  bury  the  offending  Le¬ 
man  under  their  rocks  !  ” 

Melchior  de  Willading  and  old  Roger  de  Blonay  laughed 
heartily  at  Peterchen’s  hyperbolical  compliments  ;  though 
it  was  quite  plain  that  the  worthy  bailiff  himself  fancied 
he  had  said  a  clever  thing. 

“  I  thank  you,  Signore,  no  less  than  my  friend  De  Willa¬ 
ding,”  returned  the  Genoese,  a  gleam  of  humor  lighting  his 
eye.  “  This  courteous  reception  quite  outdoes  us  of  Italy  ; 
for  I  doubt  if  there  be  a  man  south  of  the  Alps,  who  would 
be  willing  to  condemn  either  of  our  seas  to  so  overwhelming 
a  punishment  for  a  fault  so  venial,  or  at  least  so  natural.  I 
beg,  however,  that  the  lake  may  be  pardoned ;  since,  at  the 
worst,  it  was  but  a  secondary  agent  in  the  affair,  and  I 
doubt  not  it  would  have  treated  us  as  it  treats  all  travellers, 


120 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


had  we  kept  out  of  its  embraces.  The  crime  must  be  im¬ 
puted  to  the  winds,  and  as  they  are  the  offspring  of  the  hills, 
I  fear  it  will  be  found  that  these  very  mountains,  to  which 
you  look  for  retribution,  will  be  convicted  at  last  as  the  true 
devisers  and  abettors  of  the  plot  against  our  lives.” 

The  bailiff  chuckled  and  simpered  like  a  man  pleased 
equally  with  his  own  wit  and  with  that  he  had  excited  in 
others,  and  the  discourse  changed ;  though  throughout  the 
night,  as  indeed  was  the  fact  on  all  other  occasions  during 
his  visit,  the  Signor  Grimaldi  received  from  him  so  marked 
and  particular  attentions,  as  to  create  a  strong  sentiment  in 
favor  of  the  Italian  among  those  who  had  been  chiefly  ac¬ 
customed  to  see  Peterchen  enact  the  busy,  important,  digni¬ 
fied,  local  functionary. 

Attention  was  now  paid  to  the  first  wants  of  the  travel¬ 
lers,  who  had  great  need  of  refreshments  after  the  fatigues 
and  exposure  of  the  day.  To  obtain  the  latter,  Roger  de 
Blonay  insisted  that  they  should  ascend  to  his  castle,  in 
whose  grate  the  welcome  beacon  still  blazed.  By  means 
of  chars-a-banc ,  the  peculiar  vehicle  of  the  country,  the 
short  distance  was  soon  overcome,  the  bailiff,  not  a  little  to 
the  surprise  of  the  owner  of  the  house,  insisting  on  seeing 
the  strangers  safely  housed  within  its  walls.  At  the  gate 
of  Blonay,  however,  Peterchen  took  his  leave,  making  a 
hundred  apologies  for  his  absence,  on  the  ground  of  the  ex¬ 
tensive  duties  that  had  devolved  on  his  shoulders  in  conse¬ 
quence  of  the  approaching  fete. 

“We  shall  have  a  mild  winter,  for  I  have  never  known 
the  Herr  Hofmeister  so  courteous,”  observed  Roger  de  Blo¬ 
nay,  while  showing  his  guests  into  the  castle.  “  Thy  Ber¬ 
nese  authorities,  Melchior,  are  little  apt  to  be  lavish  of  their 
compliments  to  us  poor  nobles  of  Vaud.” 

“  Signore,  you  forget  the  interest  of  our  friend,”  observed 
the  laughing  Genoese.  “  There  are  other  and  better  baili¬ 
wicks,  beyond  a  question,  in  the  gift  of  the  Councils,  and 
the  Signor  de  Willading  has  a  loud  voice  in  their  disposal. 
Have  I  found  a  solution  for  this  zeal  ?  ” 

“  Thou  hast  not,”  returned  the  baron,  “  for  Peterchen 
hath  little  hope  beyond  that  of  dying  where  he  has  lived, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


121 


the  deputed  ruler  of  a  small  district.  The  worthy  man 
should  have  more  credit  for  a  good  heart,  his  own  no  doubt 
being  touched  at  seeing  those  who  are,  as  it  may  be,  re¬ 
deemed  from  the  grave.  I  owe  him  grace  for  the  kindness, 
and  should  a  better  thing  really  offer,  and  could  my  poor 
voice  be  of  account,  why,  I  do  not  say  it  should  be  silent ; 
it  is  serving  the  public  well  to  put  men  of  these  kind  feel¬ 
ings  into  places  of  trust.” 

This  opinion  appeared  very  natural  to  the  listeners,  all 
of  whom,  with  the  exception  of  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  joined 
in  echoing  the  sentiment.  The  latter,  more  experienced  in 
the  windings  of  the  human  heart,  or  possessing  some  reasons 
known  only  to  himself,  merely  smiled  at  the  remarks  that 
he  heard,  as  if  he  thoroughly  understood  the  difference  be¬ 
tween  the  homage  that  is  paid  to  station,  and  that  which  a 
generous  and  noble  nature  is  compelled  to  yield  to  its  own 
impulses. 

An  hour  later,  the  light  repast  was  ended,  and  Roger  de 
Blonay  informed  his  guests  that  they  would  be  well  repaid 
.  for  walking  a  short  distance,  by  a  look  at  the  loveliness  of 
the  night.  In  sooth,  the  change  was  already  so  great  that 
it  was  not  easy  for  the  imagination  to  convert  the  soft  and 
smiling  scene  that  lay  beneath  and  above  the  towers  of  Blo¬ 
nay,  into  the  dark  vault  and  the  angry  lake  from  which 
they  had  so  lately  escaped. 

Every  cloud  had  already  sailed  far  away  towards  the 
plains  of  Germany,  and  the  moon  had  climbed  so  high 
above  the  ragged  Dent  de  Jaman  as  to  suffer  its  rays  to 
stream  into  the  basin  of  the  Leman.  A  thousand  pensive 
stars  spangled  the  vault,  images  of  the  benign  omnipotence 
which  unceasingly  pervades  and  governs  the  universe,  what¬ 
ever  may  be  the  local  derangements  or  accidental  struggles 
of  the  inferior  agents.  The  foaming  and  rushing  waves  had 
gone  down  nearly  as  fast  as  they  had  arisen,  and,  in  their 
stead,  remained  myriads  of  curling  ridges  along  which  the 
glittering  moonbeams  danced,  rioting  with  wild  impunity  on 
the  surface  of  the  placid  sheet.  Boats  were  out  again,  pull¬ 
ing  for  Savoy  or  the  neighboring  villages  ;  and  the  whole 
view  betokened  the  renewed  confidence  of  those  who  trusted 
habitually  to  the  fickle  and  blustering  elements. 


122 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  There  is  a  strong  and  fearful  resemblance  between  the 
human  passions  and  these  hot  and  angry  gusts  of  nature,” 
observed  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  after  they  had  stood  silently 
regarding  the  scene  for  several  musing  minutes,  “  alike 
quick  to  be  aroused  and  to  be  appeased  ;  equally  ungovern¬ 
able  while  in  the  ascendant,  and  admitting  the  influence  of 
a  wholesome  reaction,  that  brings  a  more  sober  tranquillity 
when  the  fit  is  over.  Your  northern  phlegm  may  render 
the  analogy  less  apparent,  but  it  is  to  be  found  as  well 
among  the  cooler  temperaments  of  the  Teutonic  stock,  as 
among  us  of  warmer  blood.  Do  not  this  placid  lull-side, 
yon  lake,  and  the  starry  heavens  look  as  if  they  regretted 
their  late  unseemly  violence,  and  wished  to  cheat  the  be¬ 
holder  into  forgetfulness  of  their  attack  on  our  safety,  as  an 
impetuous  but  generous  nature  would  repent  it  of  the  blow 
given  in  anger,  or  of  the  cutting  speech  that  had  escaped 
in  a  moment  of  spleen  ?  What  hast  thou  to  say  to  my 
opinion,  Signor  Sigismund,  for  none  know  better  than  thou 
the.  quality  of  the  tempest  we  have  encountered  ?” 

“  Signore,”  answered  the  young  soldier,  modestly,  “  you 
forget  this  brave  mariner,  without  whose  coolness  and  fore¬ 
thought  all  would  have  been  lost.  He  has  come  up  to  Blo- 
nay  at  our  own  request,  but  until  now  he  has  been  over¬ 
looked.” 

Maso  came  forward  at  a  signal  from  Sigismund,  and 
stood  before  the  party  to  whom  he  had  rendered  so  signal 
aid,  with  a  composure  that  was  not  easily  disturbed. 

“  I  have  come  up  to  the  castle,  Signore,  at  your  com¬ 
mands,”  he  said,  addressing  the  Genoese  ;  “  but,  having  my 
own  affairs  on  hand,  must  now  beg  to  know  your  pleas¬ 
ure  ?  ” 

“We  have,  in  sooth,  been  negligent  of  thy  merit.  On 
landing,  my  first  thought  was  of  thee,  as  thou  knowest : 
but  other  things  had  caused  me  to  forget  thee.  Thou  art, 
like  myself,  an  Italian  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  I  am.” 

“  Of  what  country  ?  ” 

“  Of  your  own,  Signore ;  a  Genoese,  as  I  have  said  V>e- 
fore.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


123 


The  other  remembered  the  circumstance,  though  it  did 
not  seem  to  please  him.  He  looked  around,  as  if  to  de¬ 
tect  what  others  thought,  and  then  continued  his  ques¬ 
tions. 

“  A  Genoese  !  ”  he  repeated  slowly  :  “  if  this  be  so,  we 
should  know  something  of  each  other.  Hast  ever  heard 
of  me,  in  thy  frequent  visits  to  the  port  ?  ” 

Maso  smiled  ;  at  first,  he  appeared  disposed  to  be  face¬ 
tious  ;  but  a  dark  cloud  passed  over  his  swarthy  lineaments, 
and  he  lost  his  pleasantry,  in  an  air  of  thoughtfulness  that 
struck  his  interrogator  as  singular. 

“  Signore,”  he  said,  after  a  pause,  “  most  that  follow  my 
manner  of  life  know  something  of  your  eccellenza ;  if  it  is 
only  to  be  questioned  of  this  that  I  am  here,  I  pray  leave 
to  be  permitted  to  go  my  way.” 

“  No,  by  San  Francesco  !  thou  quittest  us  not  so  uncere¬ 
moniously.  I  am  wrong  to  assume  the  manner  of  a  supe¬ 
rior  with  one  to  whom  I  owe  my  life,  and  am  well  an¬ 
swered.  But  there  is  a  heavy  account  to  be  settled  between 
us,  and  I  will  do  something  towards  wiping  out  the  balance, 
which  is  so  greatly  against  me,  now ;  leaving  thee  to  apply 
for  a  further  statement,  when  we  shall  both  be  again  in  our 
own  Genoa.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  had  reached  forth  an  arm,  while 
speaking,  and  received  a  well-filled  purse  from  his  country¬ 
man  and  companion,  Marcelli.  This  was  soon  emptied 
of  its  contents,  a  fair  show  of  sequins,  all  of  which  were 
offered  to  the  mariner,  without  reservation.  Maso  looked 
coldly  at  the  glittering  pile,  and,  by  his  hesitation,  left  a 
doubt  whether  he  did  not  think  the  reward  insufficient. 

“  I  tell  thee  it  is  but  the  present  gage  of  further  pay¬ 
ment.  At  Genoa  our  account  shall  be  fairly  settled  ;  but 
this  is  all  that  a  traveller  can  prudently  spare.  Thou  wilt 
come  to  me  in  our  own  town,  and  we  will  look  to  all  thy 
interests.” 

“  Signore,  you  offer  that  for  which  men  do  all  acts, 
whether  of  good  or  of  evil.  They  jeopard  their  souls  for 
this  very  metal  ;  mock  at  God’s  laws  ;  overlook  the  right ; 
trifle  with  justice,  and  become  devils  incarnate  to  possess 


124 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


it ;  and  yet,  though  nearly  penniless,  I  am  so  placed  as  to 
be  compelled  to  refuse  what  you  offer.” 

“  I  tell  thee,  Maso,  that  it  shall  be  increased  hereafter  — 
or  —  we  are  not  so  poor  as  to  go  a-begging  !  Good  Mar- 
celli,  empty  thy  hoards,  and  I  will  have  recourse  to  Mel¬ 
chior  de  Willading’s  purse  for  our  wants,  until  we  can 
get  nearer  to  our  own  supplies.” 

“  And  is  Melchior  de  Willading  to  pass  for  nothing,  in 
all  this !  ”  exclaimed  the  baron  ;  u  put  up  thy  gold,  Gae¬ 
tano,  and  leave  me  to  satisfy  the  honest  mariner  for  the 
present.  At  a  later  day,  he  can  come  to  thee  in  Italy  : 
but  here,  on  my  own  ground,  I  claim  the  right  to  be  his 
banker.” 

“  Signori,”  returned  Maso  earnestly,  and  with  more  of 
gentle  feeling  than  he  was  accustomed  to  betray,  “  you  are 
both  liberal  beyond  my  desires,  and  but  too  wrell  disposed 
for  my  poor  wants.  I  have  come  up  to  the  castle  at  your 
order,  and  to  do  you  pleasure,  but  not  in  the  hope  to  get 
money.  I  am  poor ;  that  it  would  be  useless  to  deny,  for 
appearances  are  against  me,”  — here  he  laughed,  his  auditors 
thought  in  a  manner  that  was  forced,  —  “  but  poverty  and 
meanness  are  not  always  inseparable.  You  have  more 
than  suspected  to-day  that  my  life  is  free,  and  I  admit  it ; 
but  it  is  a  mistake  to  believe  that,  because  men  quit  the 
high-road  which  some  call  honesty,  in  any  particular  prac¬ 
tice,  they  are  without  human  feeling.  I  have  been  useful 
in  saving  your  lives,  Signori,  and  there  is  more  pleasure 
in  the  reflection,  than  I  should  find  in  having  the  means  to 
earn  twice  the  gold  ye  offer.  Here  is  the  Signor  Capi- 
tano,”  he  added,  taking  Sigismund  by  the  arm,  and  drag¬ 
ging  him  forward,  “  lavish  your  favors  on  him,  for  no  prac¬ 
tice  of  mine  could  have  been  of  use  without  his  bravery. 
If  ye  give  him  all  in  your  treasuries,  even  to  its  richest 
pearl,  ye  will  do  no  more  than  reason.” 

As  Maso  ceased,  he  cast  a  glance  towards  the  attentive, 
breathless  Adelheid,  that  continued  to  utter  his  meaning 
even  after  the  tongue  was  silent.  The  bright  suffusion  that 
covered  the  maiden’s  face  was  visible  even  by  the  pale 
moonlight,  and  Sigismund  shrank  back  from  his  rude  grasp 
in  the  manner  in  which  the  guilty  retire  from  notice. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


125 


“  These  opinions  are  creditable  to  thee,  Maso,”  returned 
the  Genoese,  affecting  not  to  understand  his  more  particu¬ 
lar  meaning,  “  and  they  excite  a  stronger  wish  to  be  thy 
friend.  I  will  say  no  more  on  the  subject  at  present,  for 
I  see  thy  humor.  Thou  wilt  let  me  see  thee  at  Genoa  ?  ” 

The  expression  of  Maso’s  countenance  was  inexplicable, 
but  he  retained  his  usual  indifference  of  manner. 

“  Signor  Gaetano,”  he  said,  using  a  mariner’s  freedom  in 
the  address,  “  there  are  nobles  in  Genoa  that  might  better 
knock  at  the  door  of  your  palace  than  I ;  and  there  are 
those,  too,  in  the  city  that  would  gossip,  were  it  known  that 
you  received  such  guests.” 

“  This  is  tying  thyself  too  closely  to  an  evil  and  a  dan¬ 
gerous  trade.  I  suspect  thee  to  be  of  the  contraband,  but 
surely  it  is  not  a  pursuit  so  free  from  danger,  of  so 
much  repute,  or,  judging  by  thy  attire,  of  so  much  profit 
even,  that  thou  needest  be  wedded  to  it  for  life.  Means 
can  be  found  to  relieve  thee  from  its  odium,  by  giving  thee 
a  place  in  those  customs  with  which  thou  hast  so  often 
trifled.” 

Maso  lauo-hed  outright. 

“  So  it  is,  Signore,  in  this  moral  world  of  ours  ;  he  who 
would  run  a  fair  course  in  any  particular  trust  has  only  to 
make  himself  dangerous,  to  be  bought  up.  Your  thief- 
takers  are  desperate  rogues  out  of  business ;  your  tide- 
waiter  has  got  his  art  by  cheating  the  revenue  ;  and  I  have 
been  in  lands  where  it  was  said  that  all  they  who  most 
fleeced  the  people  began  their  calling  as  suffering  patriots. 
The  rule  is  firmly  enough  established  without  the  help 
of  my  poor  name,  and,  by  your  leave,  I  will  remain  as  I 
am  ;  one  that  hath  his  pleasure  in  living  amid  risks,  and 
who  takes  his  revenge  of  the  authorities  by  railing  at 
them  when  defeated,  and  by  laughing  at  them  when  in  sue 
cess.” 

“  Young  man,  thou  hast  in  thee  the  materials  of  a  bet¬ 
ter  life !  ” 

“  Signore,  this  may  be  true,”  answered  Maso,  whose 
countenance  again  grew  dark  ;  “  we  boast  of  being  the 
lords  of  the  creation,  but  the  bark  of  poor  Baptiste  was 


126 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


not  less  master  of  its  movements,  in  the  late  gust,  than  we 
are  masters  of  our  fortunes.  Signor  Grimaldi,  I  have  in 
me  the  materials  that  make  a  man  ;  but  the  laws,  and  the 
opinions,  and  the  accursed  strife  of  men  have  left  me  what 
I  am.  For  the  first  fifteen  years  of  my  career,  the  Church 
was  to  be  my  stepping-stone  to  a  cardinal's  hat  or  a  fat 
priory  ;  but  the  briny  sea-water  washed  out  the  necessary 
unction.” 

“  Thou  art  better  born  than  thou  seemest  —  thou  hast 
friends  who  should  be  grieved  at  this  ?  ” 

The  eye  of  Maso  flashed,  but  he  bent  it  aside,  as  if  bear¬ 
ing  down,  by  the  force  of  an  indomitable  will,  some  sudden 
and  fierce  impulse. 

“  I  was  born  of  woman  !  ”  lie  said  with  singular  em¬ 
phasis. 

“  And  thy  mother  —  is  she  not  pained  at  thy  present 
course  —  does  she  know  of  thy  career  ?  ” 

The  haggard  smile  to  which  this  question  gave  birth  in¬ 
duced  the  Genoese  to  regret  that  he  had  put  it.  Maso  evi¬ 
dently  struggled  to  subdue  some  feeling  which  harrowed 
his  very  soul,  and  his  success  was  owing  to  such  a  command 
of  himself  as  men  rarely  obtain. 

“  She  is  dead,”  he  answered  huskily  ;  “  she  is  a  saint 
with  the  angels.  Had  she  lived,  I  should  never  have  been 
a  mariner,  and  —  and  ”  —  laying  his  hand  on  his  throat, 
as  if  to  keep  down  the  sense  of  suffocation,  he  smiled,  and 
added  laughingly,  —  “  aye,  and  the  good  Winkelried  would 
have  been  a  wreck.” 

“  Maso,  thou  must  come  to  me  at  Genoa.  I  must  see 
more  of  thee,  and  question  thee  further  of  thy  fortunes. 
A  fair  spirit  has  been  perverted  in  thy  fall,  and  the  friendly 
aid  of  one  wrho  is  not  without  influence  may  still  restore  its 
tone.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  spoke  warmly,  like  one  who  sin¬ 
cerely  felt  regret,  and  his  voice  had  all  the  melancholy  and 
earnestness  of  such  a  sentiment.  The  truculent  nature  of 
Maso  was  touched  by  this  show  of  interest,  and  a  multitude 
of  fierce  passions  were  at  once  subdued.  He  approached 
the  noble  Genoese,  and  respectfully  took  his  hand. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


127 


“  Pardon  the  freedom,  Signore,”  he  said  more  mildly,  in¬ 
tently  regarding  the  wrinkled  and  attenuated  fingers,  with 
the  map-like  tracery  of  veins,  that  he  held  in  his  own 
brown  and  hard  palm  ;  “  this  is  not  the  first  time  that  our 
flesh  has  touched  each  other,  though  it  is  the  first  time 
that  our  hands  have  joined.  Let  it  now  be  in  amity.  A 
humor  has  come  over  me,  and'  I  would  crave  your  pardon, 
venerable  noble,  for  the  freedom.  Signore,  you  are  aged, 
and  honored,  and  stand  high,  doubtless,  in  Heaven’s  favor, 
as  in  that  of  man  :  grant  me,  then,  your  blessing,  ere  I  go 
my  way.” 

As  Maso  preferred  this  extraordinary  request,  he  knelt 
with  an  air  of  so  much  reverence  and  sincerity  as  to  leave 
little  choice  as  to  granting  it.  The  Genoese  was  surprised, 
but  not  disconcerted.  With  perfect  dignity  and  self-pos¬ 
session,  and  with  a  degree  of  feeling  that  was  not  unsuited 
to  the  occasion,  the  fruit  of  emotions  so  powerfully  awak¬ 
ened,  he  pronounced  the  benediction.  The  mariner  arose, 
kissed  the  hand  which  he  still  held,  made  a  hurried  sign  of 
salutation  to  all,  leaped  down  the  declivity  on  which  they 
stood,  and  vanished  among  the  shadows  of  a  copse. 

Sigismund,  who  had  witnessed  this  unusual  scene  with 
surprise,  watched  him  to  the  last,  and  he  saw,  by  the  man¬ 
ner  in  which  he  dashed  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  that  his 
fierce  nature  had  been  singularly  shaken.  On  recovering 
his  thoughts,  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  too,  felt  certain  there 
had  been  no  mockery  in  the  conduct  of  their  inexplicable 
preserver,  for  a  hot  tear  had  fallen  on  his  hand  ere  it  was 
liberated.  He  was  himself  strongly  agitated  by  what  had 
passed,  and  leaning  on  his  friend,  he  slowly  reentered  the 
gates  of  Blonay. 

“  This  extraordinary  demand  of  Maso’s  has  brought  up 
the  sad  image  of  my  own  poor  son,  dear  Melchior,”  he 
said  ;  “  would  to  Heaven  that  he  could  have  received  this 
blessing,  and  that  it  might  have  been  of  use  to  him,  in  the 
sight  of  God  !  Nay,  he  may  yet  hear  it  —  for,  canst  thou 
believe  it,  I  have  thought  that  Maso  may  be  one  of  his  law¬ 
less  associates,  and  that  some  wild  desire  to  communicate 
this  scene  has-  prompted  the  strange  request  I  granted.” 


128 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  discourse  continued,  but  it  became  secret,  and  of  the 
most  confidential  kind.  The  rest  of  the  party  soon  sought 
their  beds,  though  lamps  were  burning  in  the  chambers  of 
the  two  old  nobles  to  a  late  hour  of  the  night. 

O 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


129 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Where  are  my  Switzers?  Let  them  guard  the  door: 

What  is  the  matter? 

Hamlet. 

The  American  autumn,  or  fall,  as  we  poetically  and 
affectionately  term  this  generous  and  mellow  season  among 
ourselves,  is  thought  to  be  unsurpassed,  in  its  warm  and 
genial  lustre,  its  bland  and  exhilarating  airs,  and  its  admira¬ 
ble  constancy,  by  the  decline  of  the  year  in  nearly  every 
other  portion  of  the  earth.  Whether  attachment  to  our 
own  fair  and  generous  land  has  led  us  to  overestimate  its 
advantages  or  not,  and  bright  and  cheerful  as  our  autumnal 
days  certainly  are,  a  fairer  morning  never  dawned  upon  the 
Alleghanies  than  that  which  illumed  the  Alps,  on  the  reap¬ 
pearance  of  the  sun  after  the  gust  of  the  night  which  has 
been  so  lately  described.  As  the  day  advanced,  the  scene 
grew  gradually  more  lovely,  until  warm  and  glowing  Italy 
itself  could  scarcely  present  a  landscape  more  winning, 
or  one  possessing  a  fairer  admixture  of  the  grand  and  the 
soft,  than  that  which  greeted  the  eye  of  Adelheid  de  Wil- 
lading,  as,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  father,  she  issued 
from  the  gate  of  Blonay,  upon  its  elevated  and  graveled 
terrace. 

It  has  already  been  said  that  this  ancient  and  historical 
building  stood  against  the  bosom  of  the  mountains,  at  the 
distance  of  a  short  league  behind  the  town  of  Vevey.  All 
the  elevations  of  this  region  are  so  many  spurs  of  the  same 
vast  pile,  and  that  on  which  Blonay  has  now  been  seated 
from  the  earliest  period  of  the  Middle  Ages  belongs  to  that 
peculiar  line  of  rocky  ramparts,  which  separates  the  Valais 
from  the  centre  cantons  of  the  confederation  of  Switzerland, 
and  which  is  commonly  known  as  the  range  of  the  Ober- 
land  Alps.  This  line  of  snow-crowned  rocks  terminates  in 

9 


180 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


perpendicular  precipices  on  the  very  margin  of  the  Leman, 
and  forms,  on  the  side  of  the  lake,  a  part  of  that  magnificent 
setting  which  renders  the  southeastern  horn  of  its  crescent 
so  wonderfully  beautiful.  The  upright  natural  wall  that 
overhangs  Villeneuve  and  Chillon  stretcheg  along  the  verge 
of  the  water,  barelv  leaving  room  for  a  carriage-road,  with 
here  and  there  a  cottage  at  its  base,  for  the  distance  of  two 
leagues,  when  it  diverges  from  the  course  of  the  lake,  and, 
withdrawing  inland,  it  is  finally  lost  among  the  minor  emi¬ 
nences  of  Fribourg.  Every  one  has  observed  those  sloping 
declivities,  composed  of  the  washings  of  torrents,  the  debris 
of  precipices,  and  what  may  be  termed  the  constant  drip¬ 
pings  of  perpendicular  eminences,  and  which  lie  like  broad 
buttresses  at  their  feet,  forming  a  sort  of  foundation  or 
basement  for  the  superincumbent  mass.  Among  the  Alps, 
where  nature  has  acted  on  so  sublime  a  scale,  and  where  all 
the  proportions  are  duly  observed,  these  debris  of  the  high 
mountains  frequently  contain  viMages  and  towns,  or  form 
vast  fields,  vineyards,  and  pasturages,  according  to  their 
elevation  or  their  exposure  towards  the  sun.  It  may  be 
questioned,  in  strict  geology,  whether  the  variegated  acclivity 
that  surrounds  Vevey,  rich  in  villages  and  vines,  hamlets 
and  castles,  has  been  thus  formed,  or  whether  the  natural 
convulsions  which  expelled  the  upper  rocks  from  the  crust 
of  the  earth  left  their  bases  in  the  present  broken  and 
beautiful  forms ;  but  the  fact  is  not  important  to  the  effect, 
which  is  that  just  named,  and  which  gives  to  these  vast 
ranges  of  rock  secondary  and  fertile  bases,  that,  in  other 
regions,  would  be  termed  mountains  of  themselves. 

The  castle  and  family  of  Blonay,  for  both  still  exist,  are 
among  the  oldest  of  Vaud.  A  square,  rude  tower,  based 
upon  a  foundation  of  rock,  one  of  those  ragged  masses  that 
thrust  their  naked  heads  occasionallv  through  the  soil  of 
the  declivity,  was  the  commencement  of  the  hold.  Other 
edifices  have  been  reared  around  this  nucleus  in  different 
ages,  until  the  whole  presents  one  of  those  peculiar  and 
picturesque  piles,  that  ornament  so  many  both  of  the  savage 
and  of  the  softer  sites  of  Switzerland. 

The  terrace  towards  which  Adelheid  and  her  father  ad- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


131 


vanced  was  an  irregular  walk,  shaded  by  venerable  trees 
that  had  been  raised  near  the  principal  or  the  carriage  gate 
of  the  castle,  on  a  ledge  of  those  rocks  that  form  the  foun¬ 
dation  of  the  buildings  themselves.  It  had  its  parapet 
walls,  its  seats,  its  artificial  soil,  and  its  graveled  allees ,  as 
is  usual  with  these  antiquated  ornaments ;  but  it  also  had, 
what  is  better  than  these,  one  of  the  most  sublime  and 
lovely  views  that  ever  greeted  human  eyes.  Beneath  it  lay 
the  undulating  and  teeming  declivity,  rich  in  vines,  and 
carpeted  with  sward,  here  dotted  by  hamlets,  there  park¬ 
like  and  rural  with  forest  trees,  while  there  was  no  quarter 
that  did  not  show  the  roof  of  a  chateau  or  the  tower  of 
some  rural  church.  There  is  little  of  magnificence  in  Swiss 
architecture,  which  never  much  surpasses,  and  is,  perhaps, 
generally  inferior  to  our  own  ;  but  the  beauty  and  quaint¬ 
ness  of  the  sites,  the  great  variety  of  the  surfaces,  the  hill¬ 
sides,  and  the  purity  of  the  atmosphere,  supply  charms  that 
are  peculiar  to  this  country.  Vevey  lay  at  the  water-side, 
many  hundred  feet  lower,  and  seemingly  on  a  narrow 
strand,  though  in  truth  enjoying  ample  space  ;  while  the 
houses  of  St.  Saphorin,  Corsier,  Montreux,  and  of  a  dozen 
more  villages,  were  clustered  together,  like  so  many  of  the 
compact  habitations  of  wasps  stuck  against  the  mountains. 
But  the  principal  charm  was  in  the  Leman.  One  who  had 
never  witnessed  the  lake  in  its  fury,  could  not  conceive  the 
possibility  of  danger  in  the  tranquil,  shining  sheet  that  was 
now  spread  like  a  liquid  mirror,  for  leagues,  beneath  the 
eye.  Some  six  or  seven  barks  were  in  view,  their  sails 
drooping  in  negligent  forms,  as  if  disposed  expressly  to 
become  models  for  the  artist,  their  yards  inclining  as  chance 
had  cast  them,  and  their  hulls  looming  large,  to  complete 
the  picture.  To  these  near  objects  must  be  added  the 
distant  view,  which  extended  to  the  Jura  in  one  direction, 
and  which  in  the  other  was  bounded  by  the  frontiers  of 
Italy,  whose  aerial  limits  were  to  be  traced  in  that  region 
which  appears  to  belong  neither  to  heaven  nor  to  earth,  the 
abode  of  eternal  frosts.  The  Rhone  was  shining,  in  spots, 
among  the  meadows  of  the  Valais,  for  the  elevation  of  the 
castle  admitted  of  its  being  seen,  and  Adelheid  endeavored 


132 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


to  trace  among  the  mazes  of  the  mountains  the  valleys 
which  led  to  those  sunny  countries,  towards  which  they 
journeyed. 

The  sensations  of  both  father  and  daughter,  when  they 
came  beneath  the  leafy  canopy  of  the  terrace,  were  those  of 
mute  delight.  It  was  evident,  by  the  expression  of  their 
countenances,  that  they  were  in  a  favorable  mood  to  receive 
pleasurable  impressions  ;  for  the  face  of  each  was  full  of 
that  quiet  happiness  which  succeeds  sudden  and  lively  joy. 
Adelheid  had  been  weeping  ;  but,  judging  from  the  radi¬ 
ance  of  her  eyes,  the  healthful  and  brightening  bloom  of 
her  cheeks,  and  the  struggling  smiles  that  played  about  her 
ripe  lips,  the  tears  had  been  sweet,  rather  than  painful. 
Though  still  betraying  enough  of  physical  frailty  to  keep 
alive  the  concern  of  all  who  loved  her,  there  was  a  change 
for  the  better  in  her  appearance,  which  was  so  sensible  as 
to  strike  the  least  observant  of  those  who  lived  in  daily 
communication  with  the  invalid. 

“  If  pure  and  mild  air,  a  sunny  sky,  and  ravishing 
scenery,  be  what  they  see  who  cross  the  Alps,  my  father,” 
said  Adelheid,  after  they  had  stood  a  moment,  gazing  at  the 
magnificent  panorama,  “  why  should  the  Swiss  quit  his 
native  land  ?  Is  there  in  Italy  aught  more  soft,  more  win¬ 
ning,  or  more  healthful  than  this  ?  ” 

“  This  spot  has  often  been  called  the  Italy  of  our  moun¬ 
tains.  The  fig  ripens  near  yonder  village  of  Montreux, 
and,  open  to  the  morning  sun  while  it  is  sheltered  by  the 
precipices  above,  the  whole  of  that  shore  well  deserves  its 
happy  reputation.  Still,  they  whose  spirits  require  diver¬ 
sion,  and  whose  constitutions  need  support,  generally  prefer 
to  go  into  countries  where  the  mind  has  more  occupation, 
and  where  a  greater  variety  of  employments  help  the  cli¬ 
mate  and  nature  to  complete  the  cure.” 

“  But  thou  forgettest,  father,  it  is  agreed  between  us  that 
I  am  now  to  become  strong,  and  active,  and  laughing,  as 
we  used  to  be  at  Willading,  when  I  first  grew  into  woman¬ 
hood.” 

“  If  I  could  but  see  those  days  again,  darling,  my  own 
closing  hours  would  be  calm  as  those  of  a  saint  —  though 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


133 


Heaven  knows  I  have  little  pretension  to  that  blessed  char¬ 
acter  in  any  other  particular.” 

“  Dost  thou  not  count  a  quiet  conscience  and  a  sure  hope 
as  something,  father  ?  ” 

“  Have  it  as  thou  wilt,  girl.  Make  a  saint  of  me,  or  a 
bishop,  or  a  hermit,  if  thou  wilt ;  the  only  reward  I  ask  is, 
to  see  thee  smiling  and  happy,  as  thou  never  failedst  to  be 
during  the  first  eighteen  years  of  thy  life.  Had  I  foreseen 
that  thou  wert  to  return  from  my  good  sister  so  little  like 
thyself,  I  would  have  forbidden  the  visit,  much  as  I  love 
her,  and  all  that  are  hers.  But  the  wisest  of  us  are  help¬ 
less  mortals,  and  scarce  know  our  own  wants  from  hour  to 
hour.  Thou  saidst,  I  think,  that  this  brave  Sigismund 
honestly  declared  his  belief  that  my  consent  could  never  be 
given  to  one  who  had  so  little  to  boast  of,  in  the  way  of 
birth  and  fortune  ?  There  was,  at  least,  good  sense,  and 
modesty,  and  right  feeling,  in  the  doubt,  but  he  should  have 
thought  better  of  my  heart.” 

“  He  said  this,”  returned  Adelheid,  in  a  timid  and 
slightly  trembling  voice,  though  it  was  quite  apparent,  by 
the  confiding  expression  of  her  eye,  that  she  had  no  longer 
any  secret  from  her  parent :  “  He  had  too  much  honor  to 
wish  to  win  the  daughter  0f  a  noble  without  the  knowledge 
and  approbation  of  her  friends.” 

“  That  the  boy  should  love  thee,  Adelheid,  is  natural ;  it 
is  an  additional  proof  of  his  own  merit  —  but  that  he  should 
distrust  my  affection  and  justice  is  an  offense  that  I  can 
scarce  forgive.  What  are  ancestry  and  wealth  to  thy 
happiness  ?  ” 

“  Thou  forget’st,  dear  sir,  he  is  yet  to  learn  that  my 
happiness,  in  any  measure,  depends  on  his.” 

Adelheid  spoke  quickly  and  with  warmth. 

“  He  knew  I  was  a  father,  and  that  thou  art  an  only 
child  ;  one  of  his  good  sense  and  right  way  of  thinking 
should  have  better  understood  the  feelings  of  a  man  in  my 
situation,  than  to  doubt  his  natural  affection.” 

“  As  he  has  never  been  the  parent  of  an  only  daughter, 
father," ”  answered  the  smiling  Adelheid,  for,  in  her  present 
mood,  smiles  came  easily,  u  he  may  not  have  felt  or  antici- 


184 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


pated  all  that  thou  imaginest.  He  knew  the  prejudices  of 
the  world  on  the  subject  of  noble  blood,  and  they  are  few 
indeed,  that,  having  much,  are  disposed  to  part  with  it  to 
him  who  hath  little.” 

“  The  lad  reasoned  more  like  an  old  miser  than  a  young 
soldier,  and  I  have  a  great  mind  to  let  him  feel  my  dis¬ 
pleasure  for  thinking  so  meanly  of  me.  Have  we  not 
Willading,  with  all  its  fair  lands,  besides  our  rights  in  the 
city,  that  we  need  go  begging  money  of  others,  like  needy 
mendicants  !  Thou  hast  been  in  the  conspiracy  against  my 
character,  girl,  or  such  a  fear  could  not  have  given  either 
uneasiness  for  a  moment.” 

“  I  never  thought,  father,  that  thou  wouldst  reject  him  on 
account  of  poverty,  for  I  knew  our  own  means  sufficient  for 
all  our  own  wants  ;  but  I  did  believe  that  he  who  could  not 
boast  the  privileges  of  nobility  might  fail  to  gain  thy 
favor.” 

“  Are  we  not  a  republic  ?  is  not  •  the  right  of  the  biir- 
gerschaft  the  one  essential  right  in  Berne  —  why  should  I 
raise  obstacles  about  that  on  which  the  laws  are  silent  ?  ” 

Adelheid  listened,  as  a  female  of  her  years  would  be  apt 
to  listen  to  words  so  grateful,  with  a  charmed  ear  ;  and  yet 
she  shook  her  head,  in  a  way  to  express  an  incredulity  that 
was  not  altogether  free  from  apprehension. 

“  For  thy  generous  forgetfulness  of  old  opinions  in  behalf 
of  my  happiness,  dearest  father,”  she  resumed,  the  tears 
starting  unbidden  to  her  thoughtful  blue  eye,  “  I  thank  thee 
fervently.  It  is  true  that  we  are  inhabitants  of  a  republic, 
but  we  are  not  the  less  noble.” 

“  Dost  thou  turn  against  thyself,  and  hunt  up  reasons 
why  I  should  not  do  that  which  thou  hast  just  acknowl¬ 
edged  to  be  so  necessary  to  prevent  thee  from  following 
thy  brothers  and  sisters  to  their  early  graves  ?  ” 

The  blood  rushed  in  a  torrent  to  the  face  of  Adelheid, 
for  though,  weeping  and  in  the  moment  of  tender  confidence  • 
which  succeeded  her  thanksgivings  for  the  baron’s  safety, 
she  had  thrown  herself  on  his  bosom,  and  confessed  that  the 
hopelessness  of  the  sentiments  with  which  she  met  the 
declared  love  of  Sigismund  was  the  true  cause  of  the  appar 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


135 


ent  malady  that  had  so  much  alarmed  her  friends,  the  words 
that  had  flowed  spontaneously  from  her  heart,  in  so  tender 
a  scene,  had  never  appeared  to  her  to  convey  a  meaning  so 
strong,  or  one  so  wounding  to  virgin-pride,  as  that  which 
her  father,  in  the  strength  of  his  masculine  habits,  had  now 
given  them. 

“  In  God’s  mercy,  father,  I  shall  live,  whether  united  to 
Sigismund  or  not,  to  smooth  thine  own  decline  and  to  bless 
thy  old  age.  A  pious  daughter  will  never  be  torn  so 
cruelly  from  one  to  whom  she  is  the  last  and  only  stay.  I 
may  mourn  this  disappointment,  and  foolishly  wish,  perhaps, 
it  might  have  been  otherwise  ;  but  ours  is  not  a  house  of 
which  the  maidens  die  for  their  inclinations  in  favor  of  any 
youths,  however  deserving  !  ” 

“  Noble  or  simple,”  added  the  baron,  laughing,  for  he 
saw  that  his  daughter  spoke  in  sudden  pique,  rather  than 
from  her  excellent  heart.  Adelheid,  whose  good  sense  and 
quick  recollections  instantly  showed  her  the  weakness  of 
this  little  display  of  female  feeling,  laughed  faintly  in  her 
turn,  though  she  repeated  his  words  as  if  to  give  still  more 
emphasis  to  her  own. 

“  This  will  not  do,  my  daughter.  They  who  profess  the 
republican  doctrine,  should  not  be  too  rigid  in  their  con¬ 
structions  of  privileges.  If  Sigismund  be  not  noble,  it  will 
not  be  difficult  to  obtain  for  him  that  honorable  distinction, 
and,  in  failure  of  main  line,  he  may  bear  the  name  and  sus¬ 
tain  the  honors  of  our  family.  In  any  case  he  will  become 
of  the  biirgerschaft,  and  that  of  itself  will  be  all  that  is  re¬ 
quired  in  Berne.” 

“  In  Berne,  father,”  returned  Adelheid,  who  had  so  far 
forgotten  the  recent  movement  of  pride  as  to  smile  on  her 
fond  and  indulgent  parent,  though,  yielding  to  the  way¬ 
wardness  of  the  happy,  she  continued  to  trifle  with  her  own 
feelings,  “  it  is  true.  The  biirgerschaft  will  be  sufficient  for 
all  the  purposes  of  office  and  political  privileges,  but  will  it 
suffice  for  the  opinions  of  our  equals,  for  the  prejudices  of 
society,  or  for  your  own  perfect  contentment,  when  the 
freshness  of  gratitude  shall  have  passed  ?  ” 

“  Thou  puttest  these  questions,  girl,  as  if  employed  to 


186 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


defeat  thine  own  cause  ;  dost  not  truly  love  the  boy,  after 
all  ?  ” 

“  On  this  subject,  I  have  spoken  sincerely  and  as  became 
thy  child,”  frankly  returned  Adelheid.  “  He  saved  my  life 
from  imminent  peril,  as  he  has  now  saved  thine,  and  although 
my  aunt,  fearful  of  thy  displeasure,  would  not  that  thou 
shouldst  hear  the  tale,  her  prohibition  could  not  prevent 
gratitude  from  having  its  way.  I  have  told  thee  that 
Sigismund  has  declared  his  feelings,  although  he  nobly  ab¬ 
stained  from  even  asking  a  return,  and  I  should  not  have 
been  my  mother’s  child,  could  I  have  remained  entirely  in¬ 
different  to  so  much  worth  united  to  a  service  so  great. 
What  I  have  said  of  our  prejudices  is,  then,  rather  for  your 
reflection,  dearest  sir,  than  for  myself.  I  have  thought 
much  of  all  this,  and  am  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  to 
pride,  and  to  bear  all  the  remarks  of  the  world,  in  order  to 
discharge  a  debt  to  one  to  whom  I  owe  so  much.  But, 
while  it  is  natural,  perhaps  unavoidable,  that  I  should  feel 
thus,  thou  art  not  necessarily  to  forget  the  other  claims 
upon  thee.  It  is  true  that,  in  one  sense,  we  are  all  to  each 
other,  but  there  is  a  tyrant  that  will  scarcely  let  any  escape 
from  his  reign  ;  I  mean  opinion.  Let  us  not  then  deceive 
ourselves  ;  though  we  of  Berne  affect  the  republic,  and 
speak  much  of  liberty,  it  is  a  small  state,  and  the  influence 
of  those  that  are  larger  and  more  powerful  among  our  neigh¬ 
bors  rules  in  everything  that  touches  opinion.  A  noble  is 
as  much  a  noble  in  Berne,  in  all  but  what  the  law  bestows, 
as  he  is  in  the  Empire  —  and  thou  k  no  west  we  come  of  the 
German  root,  which  has  struck  deep  into  these  prejudices.” 

The  Baron  de  Willading  had  been  much  accustomed  to 
defer  to  the  superior  mind  and  more  cultivated  understand¬ 
ing  of  his  daughter,  who,  in  the  retirement  of  her  father’s 
castle,  had  read  and  reflected  far  more  than  her  years  would 
have  probably  permitted  in  the  busier  scenes  of  the  world. 
He  felt  the  justice  of  her  remark,  and  they  had  walked  the 
entire  length  of  the  terrace  in  profound  silence,  before  he 

could  summon  the  ideas  necessary  to  make  a  suitable  an- 

%> 

swer. 

“  The  truth  of  what  thou  sayest  is  not  to  be  denied,”  he 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


137 


at  length  said,  “  but  it  may  be  palliated.  I  have  many 
friends  in  the  German  courts,  and  favors  may  be  had  ;  let¬ 
ters  of  nobility  will  give  the  youth  the  station  he  wants, 
after  which  he  can  claim  thy  hand  without  offense  to  any 
opinions,  whether  of  Berne  or  elsewhere.” 

“  I  doubt  if  Sigisrnund  will  willingly  become  a  party  to 
this  expedient.  Our  own  nobility  is  of  ancient  origin  ;  it 
dates  from  a  period  anterior  to  the  existence  of  Berne  as  a 
city,  and  is  much  older  than  our  institutions.  I  remember 
to  have  heard  him  say,  that  when  a  people  refused  to  bestow 
these  distinctions  themselves,  their  citizens  can  never  receive 
them  from  others  without  a  loss  of  dignity  and  character, 
and  one  of  his  moral  firmness  might  hesitate  to  do  what  he 
thinks  wrong  for  a  boon  so  worthless  as  that  we  offer.” 

“  By  the  soul  of  William  Tell !  should  the  unknown 
peasant  dare  —  but  he  is  a  brave  boy,  and  twice  has  he  done 
the  last  service  to  my  race  !  I  love  him,  Adelheid,  little 
less  than  thyself ;  and  we  will  win  him  over  to  our  purpose 
gently,  and  by  degrees.  A  maiden  of  thy  beauty  and  years, 
to  say  nothing  of  thy  other  qualities,  thy  name,  the  lands 
of  Willading,  and  the  rights  of  Berne,  are  matters  after  all 
not  to  be  lightly  refused  by  a  nameless  soldier  who  hath 
naught ” — 

“  But  his  courage,  his  virtues,  his  modesty,  and  his  excel¬ 
lent  sense,  father  !  ” 

“  Thou  wilt  not  let  me  have  the  naked  satisfaction  of 
vaunting  my  own  wares  !  I  see  Gaetano  Grimaldi  making 
signs  at  his  window,  as  if  he  were  about  to  come  forth  ;  go 
thou  to  thy  chamber,  that  I  may  discourse  of  this  trouble¬ 
some  matter  with  that  excellent  friend  ;  in  good  season 
thou  shalt  know  the  result.” 

Adelheid  kissed  the  hand  that  she  held  in  her  own,  and 
left  him  with  a  thoughtful  air.  As  she  descended  from  the 
terrace,  it  was  not  with  the  same  elastic  step  as  she  had 
come  up  half  an  hour  before. 

Early  deprived  of  her  mother,  this  strong-minded  but 
delicate  girl  had  long  been  accustomed  to  make  her  father  a 
confidant  of  all  her  hopes,  thoughts,  and  pictures  of  the 
future.  Owing  to  her  peculiar  circumstances,  she  would 


138 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


have  had  less  hesitation  than  is  usual  to  her  sex  in  avowing: 
to  her  parent  any  of  her  attachments  ;  but  a  dread  that  the 
declaration  might  conduce  to  his  unhappiness,  without  in 
any  manner  favoring  her  own  cause,  had  hitherto  kept  her 
silent.  Her  acquaintance  with  Sigismund  had  been  long 
and  intimate.  Rooted  esteem  and  deep  respect  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  her  sentiments,  which  were,  however,  so  lively  as 
to  have  chased  the  rose  from  her  cheek  in  the  endeavor  to 
forget  them,  and  to  have  led  her  sensitive  father  to  appre¬ 
hend  that  she  was  suffering  under  that  premature  decay 
which  had  already  robbed  him  of  his  other  children. 
There  was  in  truth  no  serious  ground  for  this  apprehension, 
so  natural  to  one  in  the  place  of  the  Baron  de  Willading ; 
for,  until  thought  and  reflection  paled  her  cheek,  a  more 
blooming  maiden  than  Adelheid,  or  one  that  united  more 
perfect  health  with  feminine  delicacy,  did  not  dwell  among 
her  native  mountains.  She  had  quietly  consented  to  the 
Italian  journey,  in  the  expectation  that  it  might  serve  to 
divert  her  mind  from  brooding  over  what  she  had  long  con¬ 
sidered  hopeless,  and  with  the  natural  desire  to  see  lands  so 
celebrated,  but  not  under  any  mistaken  opinions  of  her  own 
situation.  The  presence  of  Sigismund,  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned,  was  purely  accidental,  although  she  could  not 
prevent  the  pleasing  idea  from  obtruding  —  an  idea  so 
grateful  to  her  womanly  affections  and  maiden  pride  —  that 
the  young  soldier,  who  was  in  the  service  of  Austria,  and 
who  had  become  known  to  her  in  one  of  his  frequent  visits 
to  his  native  land,  had  gladly  seized  this  favorable  occasion 
to  return  to  his  colors.  Circumstances,  which  it  is  not  nec¬ 
essary  to  recount,  had  enabled  Adelheid  to  make  the  youth 
acquainted  with  her  father,  though  the  interdictions  of  her 
aunt,  whose  imprudence  had  led  to  the  accident  which 
nearly  proved  so  fatal,  and  from  whose  consequences  she 
had  been  saved  by  Sigismund,  prevented  her  from  explain 
ing  all  the  causes  she  had  for  showing  him  respect  and 
esteem.  Perhaps  the  manner  in  which  this  young  and  im¬ 
aginative  though  sensible  girl  was  compelled  to  smother  a 
portion  of  her  feelings  gave  them  intensity,  and  hastened 
that  transition  of  sentiment  from  gratitude  to  affection, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


139 


which,  in  another  case,  might  have  only  been  produced  by 
a  more  open  and  prolonged  association.  As  it  was,  she 
scarcely  knew  herself  how  irretrievably  her  happiness  was 
bound  up  in  that  of  Sigismund,  though  she  had  so  long 
cherished  his  image  in  most  of  her  day-dreams,  and  had  un¬ 
consciously  admitted  his  influence  over  her  mind  and  hopes, 
until  she  learned  that  they  were  reciprocated. 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  appeared  on  one  end  of  the  terrace 
as  Adelheid  de  Willadins:  descended  at  the  other.  The  old 
nobles  had  separated  late  on  the  previous  night,  after  a 
private  and  confidential  communication  that  had  shaken  the 
soul  of  the  Italian,  and  drawn  strong  and  sincere  manifesta¬ 
tions  of  sympathy  from  his  friend.  Though  so  prone  to 
sudden  shades  of  melancholy,  there  was  a  strong  touch  of 
the  humorous  in  the  native  character  of  the  Genoese,  which 
came  so  quick  upon  his  more  painful  recollections,  as  greatly 
to  relieve  their  weight,  and  to  render  him,  in  appearance  at 
least,  a  happy,  while  the  truth  would  have  shown  that  he 
was  a  sorrowing  man.  He  had  been  making  his  orisons 
with  a  grateful  heart,  and  he  now  came  forth  into  the 
genial  mountain  air  like  one  who  had  relieved  his  conscience 
of  a  heavy  debt.  Like  most  laymen  of  the  Catholic  per¬ 
suasion,  he  thought  himself  no  longer  bound  to  maintain  a 
grave  and  mortified  exterior,  when  worship  and  penitence 
were  duly  observed,  and  he  joined  his  friend  with  a  cheer¬ 
fulness  of  air  and  voice  that  an  ascetic  or  a  puritan  might 
have  attributed  to  levity,  after  the  scenes  through  which  he 
had  so  lately  passed. 

“  The  Virgin  and  San  Francesco  keep  thee  in  mind,  old 
friend  !  ”  said  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  cordially  kissing  the 
two  cheeks  of  the  Baron  de  Willadino-.  “  We  both  have 
reason  to  remember  their  care,  though,  heretic  as  thou  art,  I 
doubt  not  thou  hast  already  found  some  other  mediators  to 
thank,  that  we  now  stand  on  this  solid  terrace  of  the  Signor 
de  Blonay,  instead  of  being  worthless  clay  at  the  bottom  of 
yonder  treacherous  lake.” 

“  I  thank  God  for  this,  as  for  all  his  mercies  —  for  thy 
life,  Gaetano,  as  well  as  for  mine  own.” 

“Thou  are  right,  thou  art  right,  good  Melchior;  ’twas  no 


140 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


affair  for  any  but  Him  who  holds  the  universe  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand,  in  good  faith,  for  a  minute  later  would  have 
gathered  both  with'  our  fathers.  Still  thou  wilt  permit  me, 
Catholic  as  I  am,  to  remember  the  intercessors  on  whom  I 
called  in  the  moment  of  extremity.” 

“  This  is  a  subject  on  which  we  have  never  agreed,  and 
on  which  we  probably  never  shall,”  answered  the  Bernese, 
with  somewhat  of  the  reserve  of  one  conscious  of  a  stronger 
dissidence  than  he  wished  to  express,  as  they  turned  and 
commenced  their  walk  up  and  down  the  terrace,  “  though  I 
believe  it  is  the  only  matter  of  difference  that  ever  existed 
between  us.” 

“  Is  it  not  extraordinary,”  returned  the  Genoese,  “  that 
men  should  consort  together  in  good  and  evil,  bleed  for  each 
other,  love  each  other,  do  all  acts  of  kindness  to  each  other, 
as  thou  and  I  have  done,  Melchior,  nay,  be  in  the  last 
extremity,  and  feel  more  agony  for  the  friend  than  for  one’s 
self,  and  yet  entertain  such  opinions  of  their  respective 
creeds,  as  to  fancy  the  unbeliever  in  the  devil’s  claws  all 
this  time,  and  to  entertain  a  latent  distrust  that  the  very 
soul  which,  in  all  other  matters,  is  deemed  so  noble  and 
excellent,  is  to  be  everlastingly  damned  for  the  want  of 
certain  opinions  and  formalities  that  we  ourselves  have  been 
taught  to  think  essential  ?  ” 

“  To  tell  thee  the  truth,”  returned  the  Swiss,  rubbing  his 
forehead  like  a  man  who  wished  to  brighten  up  his  ideas,  as 
one  would  brighten  old  silver,  by  friction,  “  this  subject,  as 
thou  well  knowest,  is  not  my  strong  side.  Luther  and 
Calvin,  with  other  sages,  discovered  that  it  was  weakness  to 
submit  to  dogmas,  without  close  examination,  merely  because 
they  were  venerable,  and  they  winnowed  the  wheat  from 
the  chaff.  This  we  call  a  reform.  It  is  enough  for  me 
that  men  so  wise  were  satisfied  with  their  researches  and 
changes,  and  I  feel  little  inclination  to  disturb  a  decision 
that  has  now  received  the  sanction  of  nearly  two  centuries 
of  practice.  To  be  plain  with  thee,  I  hold  it  discreet  to 
reverence  the  opinions  of  my  fathers.” 

“  Though  it  would  seem  not  of  thy  grandfathers,”  said 
the  Italian,  dryly,  but  in  perfect  good  humor.  “  By  San 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


141 


Francesco  !  thou  wouldst  have  made  a  worthy  cardinal, 
had  chance  brought  thee  into  the  world  fifty  leagues  further 
south,  or  west,  or  east.  But  this  is  the  way  with  the  wrorld, 
whether  it  be  your  Turk,  your  Hindoo,  or  your  Lutheran, 
and  I  fear  it  is  much  the  same  with  the  children  of  St. 
Peter  too.  Each  has  his  arguments  for  faith,  or  politics,  or 
any  interest  that  may  be  named,  which  he  uses  like  a 
hammer  to  knock  down  the  bricks  of  his  opponent’s  reason;-, 
and  when  he  finds  himself  in  the  other’s  intrenchments, 
why,  he  gathers  together  the  scattered  materials  in  order 
to  build  a  wall  for  his  own  protection.  Then  what  was 
oppression  yesterday  is  justifiable  defense  to-day  ;  fanati¬ 
cism  becomes  logic ;  and  credulity  and  pliant  submission 
get,  in  two  centuries,  to  be  deference  to  the  venerable 
opinion  of  our  fathers  !  But  let  it  go  —  thou  wert  speak¬ 
ing  of  thanking  God,  and  in  that,  Roman  though  I  am,  I 
fervently  and  devoutly  join  with  or  without  saints’  interces¬ 
sion.” 

The  honest  baron  did  not  like  his  friend’s  allusions, 
though  they  were  much  too  subtle  for  his  ready  comprehen¬ 
sion,  for  the  intellect  of  the  Swiss  was  a  little  frosted  by 
constant  residence  among  snows  and  in  full  view  of  glaciers, 
and  it  wanted  the  volatile  play  of  the  Genoese’s  fancy, 
which  was  apt  to  expand  like  air  rarefied  by  the  warmth  of 
the  sun.  This  difference  of  temperament,  however,  so  far 
from  lessening  their  mutual  kindness,  was,  most  probably, 
the  real  cause  of  its  existence,  since  it  is  well  known  that 
friendship,  like  love,  is  more  apt  to  be  generated  by  quali¬ 
ties  that  vary  a  little  from  our  own  than  by  a  perfect 
homogeneity  of  character  and  disposition,  which  is  more 
liable  to  give  birth  to  rivalry  and  contention,  than  when 
each  party  has  some  distinct  capital  of  his  own  on  which  to 
adventure,  and  with  which  to  keep  alive  the  interest  of  him 
who,  in  that  particular  feature,  may  be  but  indifferently 
provided.  All  that  is  required  for  a  perfect  community  of 
feeling  is  a  mutual  recognition  of,  and  a  common  respect 
for,  certain  great  moral  rules,  without  which  there  can  exist 
no  esteem  between  the  upright.  The  alliance  of  knaves 
depends  on  motives  so  hackneyed  and  obvious,  that  we 


112 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


abstain  from  any  illustration  of  its  principle  as  a  work  of 
supererogation.  The  Signor  Grimaldi  and  Melchior  de 
Willading  were  both  very  upright  and  just-minded  men, 
as  men  go,  in  intention  at  least,  and  their  opposite  peculiar¬ 
ities  and  opinions  had  served,  during  hot  youth,  to  keep 
alive  the  interest  of  their  communications,  and  were  not 
likely,  now  that  time  had  mellowed  their  feelings  and 
brought  so  many  recollections  to  strengthen  the  tie,  to 
overturn  what  they  had  been  originally  the  principal  instru¬ 
ments  in  creating. 

“  Of  thy  readiness  to  thank  God,  I  have  never  doubted,” 
answered  the  baron,  when  his  friend  had  ended  the  remark 
just  recorded,  “  but  we  know  that  his  favors  are  commonly 
shown  to  us  here  below  by  means  of  human  instruments. 
Ought  we  not,  therefore,  to  manifest  another  sort  of  grati¬ 
tude  in  favor  of  the  individual  who  was  so  serviceable  in 
last  night’s  gust  ?  ” 

“  Thou  meanest  my  untractable  countryman  ?  I  have 
bethought  me  much  since  we  separated  of  his  singular 
refusal,  and  hope  still  to  find  the  means  of  conquering  his 
obstinacy.” 

“  I  hope  thou  mayst  succeed,  and  thou  well  know’st  that 
I  am  always  to  be  counted  on  as  an  auxiliary.  But  he  was 
not  in  my  thoughts  at  the  instant ;  there  is  still  another 
who  nobly  risked  more  than  the  mariner  in  our  behalf, 
since  he  risked  life.” 

“  This  is  beyond  question,  and  I  have  already  reflected 
much  on  the  means  of  doing  him  good.  He  is  a  soldier 
of  fortune,  I  learn,  and  if  he  will  take  service  in  Genoa, 
1  will  charge  myself  with  the  care  of  his  preferment. 
Trouble  not  thyself,  therefore,  concerning  the  fortunes  of 
young  Sigismund  ;  thou  knowest  my  means,  and  canst  not 
doubt  my  will.” 

The  baron  cleared  his  throat,  for  he  had  a  secret  reluc¬ 
tance  to  reveal  his  own  favorable  intentions  towards  the 
young  man,  the  last  lingering  feeling  of  worldly  pride,  and 
the  consequence  of  prejudices  which  were  then  universal, 
and  which  are  even  now  far  from  being  extinct.  A  vivid 
picture  of  the  horrors  of  the  past  night  luckily  flashed 


THE  HEADSMAN.  143 

across  his  mind,  and  the  good  genius  of  his  young  preserver 
triumphed. 

“  Thou  knowest  the  youth  is  a  Swiss,”  lje  said,  “  and,  in 
virtue  of  the  tie  of  country,  I  claim  at  least  an  equal  right 
to  do  him  good.” 

“We  will  not  quarrel  for  precedence  in  this  matter,  but 
thou  wilt  do  well  to  remember  that  I  possess  especial 
means  to  push  his  interests,  —  means  that  thou  canst  not 
by  possibility  use.” 

“  That  is  not  proved,”  interrupted  the  Baron  de  Willa- 
ding.  “  I  have  not  thy  particular  station,  it  is  true,  Signor 
Gaetano,  nor  thy  political  power,  nor  thy  princely  fortune ; 
but,  poor  as  I  am  in  these,  there  is  a  boon  in  my  keeping 
that  is  worth  them  all,  and  which  will  be  more  acceptable 
to  the  boy,  or  I  much  mistake  his  mettle,  than  any  favors 
that  thou  hast  named  or  canst  name.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  had  pursued  his  walk,  with  eyes 
thoughtfully  fastened  on  the  ground  ;  but  he  now  raised 
them,  in  surprise,  to  the  countenance  of  his  friend,  as  if  to 
ask  an  explanation.  The  baron  was  not  only  committed 
by  what  had  escaped  him,  but  he  was  warming  with  oppo¬ 
sition,  for  the  best  may  frequently  do  very  excellent  things, 
under  the  influence  of  motives  of  but  a  very  indifferent 
aspect. 

“  Thou  knowest  I  have  a  daughter,”  resumed  the  Swiss 
firmly,  determined  to  break  the  ice  at  once,  and  expose  a 
decision  which  he  feared  his  friend  might  deem  a  weakness. 

“  Thou  hast ;  and  a  fairer,  or  a  modester,  or  a  tenderer, 
and  yet,  unless  my  judgment  err,  a  firmer  at  need,  is  not  to 
be  found  among  all  the  excellent  of  her  excellent  sex.  But 
thou  wouldst  scarce  think  of  bestowing  Adelheid  in  reward 
for  such  a  service  on  one  so  little  known,  or  without  her 
wishes  being  consulted  ?  ” 

“  Girls  of  Adelheid’s  birth  and  breeding  are  ever  ready 
to  do  what  is  meet  to  maintain  the  honor  of  their  families. 
I  deem  gratitude  to  be  a  debt  that  must  not  stand  long 
uncanceled  against  the  name  of  Willading.” 

The  Genoese  looked  grave,  and  it  was  evident  he  lis¬ 
tened  to  his  friend  with  something  like  displeasure. 


144 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“We  who  have  so  nearly  passed  through  life,  good  Mel¬ 
chior,”  he  said,  “  should  know  its  difficulties  and  its  hazards. 
The  way  is  weary,  and  it  has  need  of  all  the  solace  that 
affection  and  community  of  feeling  can  yield  to  lighten  its 
cares.  I  have  never  liked  this  heartless  manner  of  traffick¬ 
ing  in  the  tenderest  ties,  to  uphold  a  failing  line  or  a  failing 
fortune ;  and  better  it  were  that  Adelheid  should  pass  her 
days  unwooed  in  thy  ancient  castle,  than  give  her  hand, 
under  any  sudden  impulse  of  sentiment,  not  less  than  under 
a  cold  calculation  of  interest.  Such  a  girl,  my  friend,  is 
not  to  be  bestowed  without  much  care  and  reflection.” 

“  By  the  mass  !  to  use  one  of  thine  own  favorite  oaths,  I 
wonder  to  hear  thee  talk  thus !  —  thou,  whom  I  knew  a 
hot-blooded  Italian,  jealous  as  a  Turk,  and  maintaining  at 
thy  rapier’s  point  that  women  were  like  the  steel  of  thy 
sword,  so  easily  tarnished  by  rust,  or  evil  breath,  or  neglect, 
that  no  father  or  brother  could  be  easy  on  the  score  of 
honor,  until  the  last  of  his  name  was  well  wedded,  and 
that,  too,  to  such  as  the  wisdom  of  her  advisers  should 
choose !  I  remember  thee  once  saying  thou  couldst  not 
sleep  soundly  till  thy  sister  was  a  wife  or  a  nun.” 

“  This  was  the  language  of  boyhood  and  thoughtless 
youth,  and  bitterly  rebuked  have  I  been  for  having  used  it. 
I  wived  a  beauteous  and  noble  virgin,  De  Willading ;  but  I 
much  fear  that,  while  my  fair  conduct  in  her  behalf  won 
her  respect  and  esteem,  I  was  too  late  to  win  her  love.  It 
is  a  fearful  thing  to  enter  on  the  solemn  and  grave  ties  of 
married  life,  without  enlisting  in  the  cause  of  happiness  the 
support  of  the  judgment,  the  fancy,  the  tastes,  with  the 
feelings  that  are  dependent  on  them,  and,  more  than  all, 
those  wayward  inclinations,  whose  workings  too  often  baffle 
human  foresight.  If  the  hopes  of  the  ardent  and  generous 
themselves  are  deceived  in  the  uncertain  lottery  of  wed¬ 
lock,  the  victim  will  struggle  hard  to  maintain  the  delusion  ; 
but  when  the  calculations  of  others  are  patent  to  the  evil,  a 
natural  inducement,  that  comes  of  the  devil,  I  fear,  prompts 
us  to  aggravate,  instead  of  striving  to  lessen  the  evil.” 

“  Thou  dost  not  speak  of  wedlock  as  one  who  found  the 
condition  happy,  poor  Gaetano  ?  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


145 


“I  have  told  thee  what  I  fear  was  but  too  true,”  re¬ 
turned  the  Genoese,  with  a  heavy  sigh.  “  My  birth,  vast 
means,  and  I  trust  a  fair  name,  induced  the  kinsmen  of  my 
wife  to  urge  her  to  a  union,  that,  I  have  since  had  reason  to 
fear,  her  feelings  did  not  lead  her  to  form.  I  had  a  terrible 
ally,  too,  in  the  acknowledged  unworthiness  of  him  who 
had  captivated  her  young  fancy,  and  whom,  as  age  brought 
reflection,  her  reason  condemned.  I  was  accepted,  there¬ 
fore,  as  a  cure  to  a  bleeding  heart  and  broken  peace,  and 
my  office,  at  the  best,  was  not  such  as  a  good  man  could 
desire,  or  a  proud  man  tolerate.  The  unhappy  Angiolina 
died  in  giving  birth  to  her  first  child,  the  unhappy  son  of 
whom  I  have  told  thee  so  much.  She  found  peace  at  last 
in  the  grave  !  ” 

“  Thou  hadst  not  time  to  give  thy  manly  tenderness  and 
noble  qualities  an  opportunity  ;  else,  my  life  on  it,  she 
would  have  come  to  love  thee,  Gaetano,  as  all  love  thee 
who  know  thee  !  ”  returned  the  baron,  warmly. 

“  Thanks,  my  kind  friend  ;  but  beware  of  making  mar¬ 
riage  a  mere  convenience.  There  may  be  folly  in  calling 
each  truant  inclination  that  deep  sentiment  and  secret  sym¬ 
pathy  which  firmly  knits  heart  to  heart,  and  doubtless  a 
common  fortune  may  bind  the  worldly-minded  together ; 
but  this  is  not  the  holy  union  which  keeps  noble  qualities 
in  a  family,  and  which  fortifies  against  the  seductions  of  a 
world  that  is  already  too  strong  for  honesty.  I  remember 
to  have  heard  from  one  that  understood  his  fellow-creatures 
well,  that  marriages  of  mere  propriety  tend  to  rob  woman 
of  her  greatest  charm,  that  of  superiority  to  the  vulgar 
feeling  of  worldly  calculations,  and  that  all  communities  in 
which  they  prevail  become,  of  necessity,  selfish  beyond  the 
natural  limits,  and  eventually  corrupt.” 

“  This  may  be  true ;  but  Adelheid  loves  the  youth.” 

“  Ha  !  This  changes  the  complexion  of  the  affair.  How 
dost  thou  know  this  ?  ” 

"  From  her  own  lips.  The  secret  escaped  her,  under 
the  warmth  and  sincerity  of  feeling  that  the  late  events  so 
naturally  excited.” 

“  And  Sigismund  !  he  has  thy  approbation  ?  for  I  will 

10 


146 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


not  suppose  that  one  like  thy  daughter  yielded  her  affec¬ 
tions  unsolicited.” 

“  He  has  —  that  is  —  he  has.  There  is  what  the  world 
will  be  apt  to  call  an  obstacle,  but  it  shall  count  for  noth¬ 
ing  with  me.  The  youth  is  not  noble.” 

u  The  objection  is  serious,  my  honest  friend.  It  is  not 
wise  to  tax  human  infirmity  too  much,  where  there  is  suffi¬ 
cient  to  endure  from  causes  that  cannot  be  removed.  Wed¬ 
lock  is  a  precarious  experiment,  and  all  unusual  motives 
for  disgust  should  be  cautiously  avoided.  I  would  he  were 
noble.” 

“  The  difficulty  shall  be  removed  by  the  Emperor’s  favor. 
Thou  hast  princes  in  Italy,  too,  that  might  be  prevailed  on 
to  do  us  this  grace,  at  need  ?  ” 

u  What  is  the  youth’s  origin  and  history,  and  by  what 
means  has  a  daughter  of  thine  been  placed  in  a  situation  to 
love  one  that  is  simply  born  ?  ” 

“  Sigismund  is  a  Swiss,  and  of  a  family  of  Bernese  bur¬ 
ghers,  I  should  think,  though,  to  confess  the  truth,  I  know 
little  more  than  that  he  has  passed  several  years  in  foreign 
service,  and  that  he  saved  my  daughter’s  life  from  one  of 
our  mountain  accidents,  some  two  years  since,  as  he  has  now 
saved  thine  and  mine.  My  sister,  near  whose  castle  the 
acquaintance  commenced,  permitted  the  intercourse,  which 
it  would  now  be  too  late  to  think  of  prohibiting.  And,  to 
speak  honestly,  I  begin  to  rejoice  the  boy  is  what  he  is,  in 
order  that  our  readiness  to  receive  him  to  our  arms  may  be 
the  more  apparent.  If  the  young  fellow  were  the  equal  of 
Adelheid  in  other  things,  as  he  is  in  person  and  character, 
he  would  have  too  much  in  his  favor.  No,  by  the  faith  of 
Calvin  !  —  him  whom  thou  stylest  a  heretic  —  I  think  I 
rejoice  that  the  boy  is  not  noble  !  ” 

“  Have  it  as  thou  wilt,”  returned  the  Genoese,  whose 
countenance  continued  to  express  distrust  and  thought,  for 
his  own  experience  had  made  him  wary  on  the  subject  of 
doubtful  or  ill-assorted  alliances  ;  “  let  his  origin  be  what 
it  may,  he  shall  not  need  gold.  I  charge  myself  with  see¬ 
ing  that  the  lands  of  Willading  shall  be  fairly  balanced  ; 
and  here  comes  our  hospitable  host  to  be  witness  of  the 
pledge.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


147 


Roger  de  Blonay  advanced  upon  the  terrace  to  greet  his 
guests,  as  the  Signor  Grimaldi  concluded.  The  three  old 
men  continued  their  walk  for  an  hour  longer,  discussing  the 
fortunes  of  the  young  pair,  for  Melchior  de  Willading  was 
as  little  disposed  to  make  a  secret  of  his  intentions  with  one 
of  his  friends  as  with  the  other. 


148 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  X. 


But  I  have  not  the  time  to  pause 
Upon  these  gewgaws  of  the  heart. 


Werner. 


Though  the  word  castle  is  of  common  use  in  Europe,  as 
applied  to  ancient  baronial  edifices,  the  thing  itself  is  very 
different  in  style,  extent,  and  cost,  in  different  countries. 
Security,  united  to  dignity  and  the  means  of  accommodating 
a  train  of  followers  suited  to  the  means  of  the  noble,  being 
the  common  object,  the  position  and  defenses  of  the  place 
necessarily  varied  according  to  the  general  aspect  of  the 
region  in  which  it  stood.  Thus  ditches  and  other  broad  ex¬ 
panses  of  water  were  much  depended  on  in  all  low  countries, 
as  in  Flanders,  Holland,  parts  of  Germany,  and  much  of 
France  ;  while  hills,  sjduts,  mountains,  and  more  especially 
the  summits  of  conical  rocks,  were  sought  in  Switzerland, 
Italy,  and  wherever  else  these  natural  means  of  protection 
could  readily  be  found.  Other  circumstances,  such  as  cli¬ 
mate,  wealth,  the  habits  of  a  people,  and  the  nature  of  the 
feudal  rights,  also  served  greatly  to  modify  the  appearance 
and  extent  of  the  building.  The  ancient  hold  in  Switzer¬ 
land  was  originally  little  more  than  a  square  solid  tower, 
perched  upon  a  rock,  with  turrets  at  its  angles.  Proof 
against  fire  from  without,  it  had  ladders  to  mount  from  floor 
to  floor,  and  often  contained  its  beds  in  the  deep  recesses 
of  the  windows,  or  in  alcoves  wrought  in  the  massive 
wall.  As  greater  security  or  greater  means  enabled,  offices 
and  constructions  of  more  importance  arose  around  its  base, 
inclosing  a  court.  These  necessarily  followed  the  formation 
of  the  rock,  until,  in  time,  the  confused  and  inartificial  piles, 
which  are  now  seen  mouldering  on  so  many  of  the  minor 
spurs  of  the  Alps,  were  created. 

As  is  usual  in  all  ancient  holds,  the  Rittersaal  —  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


149 


Salle  des  Chevaliers  —  or  the  knights’  hall,  as  it  is  differ¬ 
ently  called  in  different  languages,  of  Blonay,  was  both  the 
largest  and  most  laboriously  decorated  apartment  of  the 
edifice.  It  was  no  longer  in  the  rude,  jail-like  keep,  that 
grew,  as  it  were,  from  the  living  rock,  on  which  it  had  been 
reared  with  so  much  skill  as  to  render  it  difficult  to  ascer¬ 
tain  where  nature  ceased  and  art  commenced  ;  but  it  had 
been  transferred,  a  century  before  the  occurrences  related  in 
our  tale,  to  a  more  modern  portion  of  the  buildings  that 
formed  the  southeastern  angle  of  the  whole  construction. 
The  room  was  spacious,  square,  simple,  for  such  is  the 
fashion  of  the  country,  and  lighted  by  windows  that  looked 
on  one  side  towards  Valais,  and  on  the  other  over  the 
whole  of  the  irregular,  but  lovely  declivity,  to  the  margin 
of  the  Leman,  and  along  that  beautiful  sheet,  embracing 
hamlet,  village,  city,  castle,  and  purple  mountain,  until  the 
view  was  limited  by  the  hazy  Jura.  The  window  on  the 
latter  side  of  the  knights’  hall  had  an  iron  balcony  at  a 
giddy  height  from  the  ground,  and  in  this  airy  lookout 
Adelheid  had  taken  her  seat,  when,  after  quitting  her 
father,  she  mounted  to  the  apartment  common  to  all  the 
guests  of  the  castle. 

We  have  already  alluded  generally  to  the  personal  ap¬ 
pearance  and  to  the  moral  qualities  of  the  Baron  de  Wil- 
lading’s  daughter,  but  we  now  conceive  it  necessary  to  make 
the  reader  more  intimately  acquainted  with  one  who  is  des¬ 
tined  to  act  no  mean  part  in  the  incidents  of  our  tale.  It 
has  been  said  that  she  was  pleasing  to  the  eye,  but  her 
beauty  was  of  a  kind  that  depended  more  on  expression,  on 
a  union  of  character  with  feminine  grace,  than  on  the  vul¬ 
gar  lines  of  regularity  and  symmetry.  While  she  had  no 
feature  that  was  defective,  she  had  none  that  was  absolutely 
faultless,  though  all  were  combined  with  so  much  harmony, 
and  the  soft  expression  of  the  mild  blue  eye  accorded  so 
well  with  the  gentle  play  of  a  sweet  mouth,  that  the  soul  of 
their  owner  seemed  ready  at  all  times  to  appear  through 
these  ingenuous  tell-tales  of  her  thoughts.  Still,  maidenly 
reserve  sat  in  constant  watch  over  all,  and  it  was  when  the 
spectator  thought  himself  most  in  communion  with  her 


150 


THE  HEADSMAN. 

0 

spirit,  that  he  most  felt  its  pure  and  correcting  influence. 
Perhaps  a  cast  of  high  intelligence,  of  a  natural  power  to 
discriminate,  which  much  surpassed  the  limited  means  ac¬ 
corded  to  females  of  that  age,  contributed  their  share  to 
hold  those  near  her  in  respect,  and  served  in  some  degree 
as  a  mild  and  wise  repellant,  to  counteract  the  attractions 
of  her  gentleness  and  candor.  In  short,  one  cast  unex¬ 
pectedly  in  her  society  would  not  have  been  slow  to  infer, 
and  he  would  have  decided  correctly,  that  Adelheid  de  Wil- 
lading  was  a  girl  of  warm  and  tender  affections,  of  a  play¬ 
ful  but  regulated  fancy,  of  a  firm  and  lofty  sense  of  all  her 
duties,  whether  natural  or  merely  the  result  of  social  obli¬ 
gations,  of  melting  pit}7-,  and  yet  of  a  habit  and  quality  to 
think  and  act  for  herself,  in  all  those  cases  in  which  it  was 
fitting  for  a  maiden  of  her  condition  and  years  to  assume 
such  self-control. 

It  was  now  more  than  a  year  since  Adelheid  had  be- 
come  fully  sensible  of  the  force  of  her  attachment  for  Sig- 
ismund  Steinbach,  and  during  all  that  time  she  had  strug¬ 
gled  hard  to  overcome  a  feeling  which  she  believed  could 
lead  to  no  happy  result.  The  declaration  of  the  young 
man  himself,  a  declaration  that  was  extorted  involuntarily 
and  in  a  moment  of  powerful  passion,  was  accompanied  by 
an  admission  of  its  uselessness  and  folly,  and  it  first  opened 
her  eyes  to  the  state  of  her  own  feelings.  Though  she  had 
listened,  as  all  of  her  sex  will  listen,  even  when  the  passion 
is  hopeless,  to  such  wrords  coming  from  lips  they  love,  it 
was  with  a  self-command  that  enabled  her  to  retain  her 
own  secret,  and  with  a  settled  and  pious  resolution  to 
do  that  which  she  believed  to  be  her  duty  to  herself, 
to  her  father,  and  to  Sigismund.  From  that  hour  she 
ceased  to  see  him,  unless  under  circumstances  when  it 
would  have  drawn  suspicion  on  her  motives  to  refuse, 
and  while  she  never  appeared  to  forget  her  heavy  ob¬ 
ligations  to  the  youth,  she  firmly  denied  herself  the  pleas¬ 
ure  of  even  mentioning  his  name  when  it  could  be  avoided. 
But  of  all  ungrateful  and  reluctant  tasks,  that  of  striving 
to  forget  is  the  least  likely  to  succeed.  Adelheid  was  sus¬ 
tained  only  by  her  sense  of  duty  and  the  desire  not  to  dis- 


151 


e.  n  r\ 

vi 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


appoint  her  father’s  wishes,  to  which  habit  and  custom  had 
given  nearly  the  force  of  law  with  maidens  of  her  condi¬ 
tion,  though  her  reason  and  judgment,  no  less  than  her 
affections,  were  both  strongly  enlisted  on  the  other  side. 
Indeed,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  general  unfitness 
of  a  union  between  two  of  unequal  stations,  there  was 
nothing  to  discredit  her  choice,  if  that  may  be  termed 
choice  which,  after  all,  was  more  the  result  of  spontaneous 
feeling  and  secret  sympathy  than  of  any  other  cause,  unless 
it  were  a  certain  equivocal  reserve,  and  a  manifest  uneasi¬ 
ness,  whenever  allusion  was  made  to  the  early  history  and 
to  the  family  of  the  soldier.  This  sensitiveness  on  the 
part  of  Sigismund  had  been  observed  and  commented  on 
by  others  as  well  as  by  herself,  and  it  had  been  openly 
ascribed  to  the  mortification  of  one  who  had  been  thrown 
by  chance  into  an  intimate  association  that  was  much  supe¬ 
rior  to  what  he  was  entitled  to  maintain  by  birth  ;  a  weak¬ 
ness  but  too  common,  and  which  few  have  strength  of  mind 
to  resist,  or  sufficient  pride  to  overcome.  The  intuitive 
watchfulness  of  affection,  however,  led  Adelheid  to  a  differ¬ 
ent  conclusion  ;  she  saw  that  he  never  affected  to  conceal, 
while  with  equal  good  taste  he  abstained  from  obtrusive 
allusions  to  the  humble  nature  of  his  origin,  but  she  also 
perceived  that  there  were  points  of  his  previous  his¬ 
tory  on  which  he  was  acutely  sensitive,  and  which  at  first 
she  feared  must  be  attributed  to  the  consciousness  of  acts 
that  his  clear  perception  of  moral  truth  condemned,  and 
which  he  could  wish  forgotten.  For  some  time  Adelheid 
clung  to  this  discovery  as  to  a  healthful  and  proper  antidote 
to  her  own  truant  inclinations,  but  native  rectitude  ban¬ 
ished  a  suspicion  which  had  no  sufficient  ground,  as  equally 
unworthy  of  them  both.  The  effects  of  a  ceaseless  mental 
struggle,  and  of  the  fruitlessness  of  her  efforts  to  overcome 
her  tenderness  in  behalf  of  Sigismund,  have  been  described 
in  the  fading  of  her  bloom,  in  the  painful  solicitude  of  a 
countenance  naturally  so  sweet,  and  in  the  settled  melan¬ 
choly  of  her  playful  and  mellow  eye.  These  were  the  real 
causes  of  the  journey  undertaken  by  her  father,  and,  in 
truth,  of  most  of  the  other  events  which  we  are  about  to 
describe. 


152 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  prospect  of  the  future  had  undergone  a  sudden 
change.  The  color,  though  more  the  effect  of  excitement 
than  of  returning  health  —  for  the  tide  of  life,  when 
rudely  checked,  does  not  resume  its  currents  at  the  first 
breath  of  happiness  —  again  brightened  her  cheek  and  im¬ 
parted  brilliancy  to  her  looks,  and  smiles  stole  easily  to 
those  lips  which  had  long  been  growing  pallid  with  anxiety. 
She  leaned  forward  from  the  balcony,  and  never  before  had 
the  air  of  her  native  mountains  seemed  so  balmy  and  heal¬ 
ing.  At  that  moment  the  subject  of  her  thoughts  appeared 
on  the  verdant  declivity,  among  the  luxuriant  nut-trees  that 
shade  the  natural  lawn  of  Blonay.  He  saluted  her  re¬ 
spectfully,  and  pointed  to  the  glorious  panorama  of  the 
Leman.  The  heart  of  Adelheid  beat  violently ;  she  strug¬ 
gled  for  an  instant  with  her  fears  and  her  pride,  and  then, 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  made  a  signal  that  she 
wished  him  to  join  her. 

Notwithstanding  the  important  service  that  the  young 
soldier  had  rendered  to  the  daughter  of  the  Baron  de  Wil- 
lading,  and  the  long  intimacy  which  had  been  its  fruit,  so 
great  had  been  the  reserve  she  had  hitherto  maintained,  by 
placing  a  constant  restraint  on  her  inclinations,  though  the 
simple  usages  of  Switzerland  permitted  greater  familiarity 
of  intercourse  than  was  elsewhere  accorded  to  maidens  of 
rank,  that  Sigismund  at  first  stood  rooted  to  the  ground, 
for  he  could  not  imagine  the  waving  of  the  hand  was 
meant  for  him.  Adelheid  saw  his  embarrassment,  and  the 
signal  was  repeated.  The  young  man  sprang  up  the  accliv¬ 
ity  with  the  rapidity  of  the  wind,  and  disappeared  behind 
the  walls  of  the  castle. 

The  barrier  of  reserve,  so  long  and  so  successfully  ob¬ 
served  by  Adelheid,  was  now  passed,  and  she  felt  as  if  a 
few  short  minutes  must  decide  her  fate.  The  necessity  of 
making  a  wide  circuit  in  order  to  enter  the  court  still 
afforded  a  little  time  for  reflection,  however,  and  this  she 
endeavored  to  improve  by  collecting  her  thoughts  and  re¬ 
covering  her  self-possession. 

When  Sigismund  entered  the  knights’  hall,  he  found  the 
maiden  still  seated  near  the  open  window  of  the  balcony, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


158 


pale  and  serious,  but  perfectly  calm,  and  with  such  an  ex¬ 
pression  of  radiant  happiness  in  her  countenance  as  he  had 
not  seen  reigning  in  those  sweet  lineaments  for  many  pain¬ 
ful  months.  The  first  feeling  was  that  of  pleasure  at  per¬ 
ceiving  how  well  she  bore  the  alarms  and  dangers  of  the 
past  night.  This  pleasure  he  expressed,  with  the  frankness 
admitted  by  the  habits  of  the  Germans. 

“  Thou  wilt  not  suffer,  Adelheid,  by  the  exposure  on  the 
lake  !  ”  he  said,  studying  her  face  until  the  tell-tale  blood 
stole  to  her  very  temples. 

“  Agitation  of  the  mind  is  a  good  antidote  to  the  conse¬ 
quences  of  bodily  exposure.  So  far  from  suffering  by  what 
has  passed,  I  feel  stronger  to-day,  and  better  able  to  endure 
fatigue,  than  at  any  time  since  we  came  through  the  gates 
of  Willading.  This  balmy  air,  to  me,  seems  Italy,  and  I 
see  no  necessity  to  journey  farther  in  search  of  what  they 
said  was  necessary  to  my  health,  agreeable  objects  and  a 
generous  sun.” 

“  You  will  not  cross  the  St.  Bernard !  ”  he  exclaimed,  in 
a  tone  of  disappointment. 

Adelheid  smiled,  and  he  felt  encouraged,  though  the 
smile  was  ambiguous.  Notwithstanding  the  really  noble 
sincerity  of  the  maiden’s  disposition,  and  her  earnest  desire 
to  set  his  heart  at  ease,  nature,  or  habit,  or  education,  for 
we  scarcely  know  to  which  the  weakness  ought  to  be 
ascribed,  tempted  her  to  avoid  a  direct  explanation. 

“  Why  need  one  desire  aught  that  is  more  lovely  than 
this  ?  ”  she  answered,  evasively.  “  Here  is  a  warm  air, 
such  a  scene  as  Italy  can  scarcely  surpass,  and  a  friendly 
roof.  The  experience  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours  gives 
little  encouragement  for  attempting  the  St.  Bernard,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  fair  promises  of  hospitality  and  welcome 
that  have  been  so  liberally  held  out  by  the  good  canon.” 

“  Thy  eye  contradicts  thy  tongue,  Adelheid  ;  thou  art 
happy  and  well  enough  to  use  pleasantry  to-day.  For 
Heaven’s  sake,  do  not  neglect  to  profit  by  this  advantage, 
however,  under  a  mistaken  opinion  that  Blonay  is  the  well- 
sheltered  Pisa.  When  the  winter  shall  arrive,  thou  wilt 
see  that  these  mountains  are  still  the  icy  Alps,  and  the 


154 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


winds  will  whistle  through  this  crazy  castle,  as  they  are 
wont  to  sing  in  the  naked  corridors  of  Wil lading.’* 

“  W e  have  time  before  us,  and  can  think  of  this.  Thou 
wilt  proceed  to  Milan,  no  doubt,  as  soon  as  the  revels  of 
Vevey  are  ended.” 

“  The  soldier  has  little  choice  but  duty.  My  long  and 
frequent  leaves  of  absence  of  late,  —  leaves  that  have  been 
liberally  granted  to  me  on  account  of  important  family  con¬ 
cerns,  —  impose  an  additional  obligation  to  be  punctual, 
that  I  may  not  seem  forgetful  of  favors  already  enjoyed. 
Although  we  all  owe  a  heavy  debt  to  nature,  our  voluntary 
engagements  have  ever  seemed  to  me  the  most  serious.” 

Adelheid  listened  with  breathless  attention.  Never 
before  had  he  uttered  the  word  family,  in  reference  to  him¬ 
self,  in  her  presence.  The  allusion  appeared  to  have 
created  unpleasant  recollections  in  the  mind  of  the  young 
man  himself,  for  when  he  ceased  to  speak  his  countenance 
fell,  and  lie  even  appeared  to  be  fast  forgetting  the  presence 
of  his  fair  companion.  The  latter  turned  sensitively  from 
a  subject  which  she  saw  gave  him  pain,  and  endeavored  to 
call  his  thoughts  to  other  things.  By  an  unforeseen  fatality, 
the  very  expedient  adopted  hastened  the  explanation  she 
would  now  have  given  so  much  to  postpone. 

“  My  father  has  often  extolled  the  site  of  the  Baron  de 
Blonay’s  castle,”  said  Adelheid,  gazing  from  the  window, 
though  all  the  fair  objects  of  the  view  floated  unheeded 
before  her  eyes  ;  “  but,  until  now,  I  have  always  suspected 
that  friendly  feeling  had  a  great  influence  on  his  descrip¬ 
tions.” 

“  You  did  him  injustice  then,”  answered  Sigismund, 
advancing  to  the  opening  ;  “  of  all  the  ancient  holds  of 
Switzerland,  Blonay  is  perhaps  entitled  to  the  palm,  for 
possessing  the  fairest  site.  Regard  yon  treacherous  lake, 
Adelheid !  Can  we  fancy  that  sleeping  mirror  the  same 
boiling  caldron  on  which  we  were  so  lately  tossed,  helpless 
and  nearly  hopeless  ?  ” 

“  Hopeless,  Sigismund,  but  for  thee  !  ” 

“  Thou  forget’st  the  daring  Italian,  without  whose  cool¬ 
ness  and  skill  we  must  indeed  have  irredeemably  perished.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


155 


“  And  what  would  it  be  to  me  if  the  worthless  bark  were 
saved,  while  my  father  and  his  friend  were  abandoned  to 
the  frightful  fate  that  befell  the  patron  and  that  unhappy 
peasant  of  Berne  !  ” 

The  pulses  of  the  young  man  beat  high,  for  there  was 
a  tenderness  in  the  tones  of  Adelheid  to  which  he  was  un¬ 
accustomed,  and  which,  indeed,  he  had  never  before  dis¬ 
covered  in  her  voice. 

“  I  will  go  seek  this  brave  mariner,”  he  said,  trembling 
lest  his  self-command  should  be  again  lost  by  the  seductions 
of  such  a  communion  ;  “  it  is  time  he  had  more  substantial 
proofs  of  our  gratitude.” 

“  No,  Sigismund,”  returned  the  maiden  firmly,  and  in  a 
way  to  chain  him  to  the  spot,  “  thou  must  not  quit  me  yet. 
I  have  much  to  say  —  much  that  touches  my  future  happi¬ 
ness,  and,  I  am  perhaps  weak  enough  to  believe,  thine.” 

Sigismund  was  bewildered,  for  the  manner  of  his  com¬ 
panion,  though  the  color  went  and  came  in  sudden  and 
bright  flashes  across  her  pure  brows,  was  miraculously  calm 
and  full  of  dignity.  He  took  the  seat  to  which  she  silently 
pointed,  and  sat  motionless  as  if  carved  in  stone,  his  facul¬ 
ties  absorbed  in  the  single  sense  of  hearing.  Adelheid  saw 
that  the  crisis  was  arrived,  and  that  retreat,  without  an 
appearance  of  levity  that  her  character  and  pride  equally 
forbade,  was  impossible.  The  inbred  and  perhaps  the 
inherent  feelings  of  her  sex  would  now  have  caused  her 
again  to  avoid  the  explanation,  at  least  as  coming  from 
herself,  but  that  she  was  sustained  by  a  high  and  holy 
motive. 

“  Thou  must  find  great  delight,  Sigismund,  in  reflecting 
on  thine  own  good  acts  to  others.  But  for  thee,  Melchior 
de  Willading  would  have  long  since  been  childless ;  and 
but  for  thee,  his  daughter  would  now  be  an  orphan.  The 
knowledge  that  thou  hast  had  the  power  and  the  will  to 
succor  thy  friends  must  be  worth  all  other  knowledge !  ” 

“  As  connected  with  thee,  Adelheid,  it  is,”  he  answered 
in  a  low  voice  ;  “  I  would  not  exchange  the  secret  happi¬ 
ness  of  having  been  of  this  use  to  thee,  and  to  those  thou 
lovest,  for  the  throne  of  the  powerful  prince  I  serve.  I 


156 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


have  had  my  secret  wrested  from  me  already,  and  it  is  vain 
attempting  to  deny  it,  if  I  would.  Thou  knowest  I  love 
thee ;  and,  in  spite  of  myself,  my  heart  cherishes  the  weak¬ 
ness.  I  rather  rejoice,  than  dread,  to  say,  that  it  will 
cherish  it  until  it  cease  to  feel.  This  is  more  than  I  ever 
intended  to  repeat  to  thy  modest  ears,  which  ought  not  to 
be  wounded  by  idle  declarations  like  these,  but  —  thou 
smilest  —  Adelheid  !  —  can  thy  gentle  spirit  mock  at  a 
hopeless  passion  !  ” 

u  Why  should  my  smile  mean  mockery  ?  ” 

“  Adelheid  !  nay  —  this  never  can  be.  One  of  my  birth 
—  my  ignoble,  nameless  origin,  cannot  even  intimate  his 
wishes,  with  honor,  to  a  lady  of  thy  name  and  expecta¬ 
tions  !  ” 

“  Sigismund,  it  can  be.  Thou  hast  not  well  calculated 
either  the  heart  of  Adelheid  de  Willading,  or  the  gratitude 
of  her  father.” 

The  young  man  gazed  earnestly  at  the  face  of  the 
maiden,  which,  now  that  she  had  disburdened  her  soul  of 
its  most  secret  thought,  reddened  to  the  temples,  more  how¬ 
ever  with  excitement  than  with  shame,  for  she  met  his 
ardent  look  with  the  mild  confidence  of  innocence  and 
affection.  She  believed,  and  she  had  every  reason  so  to 
believe,  that  her  words  would  give  pleasure,  and,  with  the 
jealous  watchfulness  of  true  love,  she  would  not  willingly 
let  a  single  expression  of  happiness  escape  her.  But, 
instead  of  the  brightening  eye,  and  the  sudden  expression 
of  joy  that  she  expected,  the  young  man  appeared  over¬ 
whelmed  with  feelings  of  a  very  opposite,  and  indeed  of  the 
most  painful,  character.  His  breathing  was  difficult,  his 
look  wandered,  and  his  lips  were  convulsed.  He  passed  his 
hand  across  his  brow,  like  a  man  in  intense  agony,  and  a 
cold  perspiration  broke  out,  as  by  a  dreadful  inward  work¬ 
ing  of  the  spirit,  upon  his  forehead  and  temples,  in  large, 
visible  drops. 

“  Adelheid  —  dearest  Adelheid  —  thou  knowest  not  what 
thou  sayest!  One  like  me  can  never  become  thy  hus¬ 
band.” 

“  Sigismund  !  —  why  this  distress  ?  Speak  to  me  —  ease 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


157 


thy  mind  by  words.  I  swear  to  thee  that  the  consent  of 
my  father  is  accompanied  on  my  part  by  a  willing  heart. 
I  love  thee,  Sigismund  ;  wouldst  thou  have  me  —  can  I  say 
more  ?  ” 

The  young  man  gazed  at  her  incredulously,  and  then,  as 
thought  became  more  clear,  as  one  regards  a  much-prized 
object  that  is  hopelessly  lost.  He  shook  his  head  mourn¬ 
fully,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

“  Say  no  more,  Adelheid —  for  my  sake  —  for  thine  own 
sake,  say  no  more  —  in  mercy,  be  silent !  Thou  never 
canst  be  mine  —  no,  no  —  honor  forbids  it;  in  thee  it 
would  be  madness,  in  me  dishonor  —  we  can  never  be 
united.  What  fatal  weakness  has  kept  me  near  thee  —  I 
have  long  dreaded  this  ”  — 

“  Dreaded  !  ” 

“  Nay,  do  not  repeat  my  words,  —  for  I  scarce  know 
what  I  say.  Thou  and  thy  father  have  yielded,  in  a  mo¬ 
ment  of  vivid  gratitude,  to  a  generous,  a  noble  impulse  — 
but  it  is  not  for  me  to  profit  by  the  accident  that  has  en¬ 
abled  me  to  gain  this  advantage.  What  would  all  of  thy 
blood,  all  of  the  republic  say,  Adelheid,  were  the  noblest 
born,  the  best  endowed,  the  fairest,  gentlest,  best  maiden  of 
the  canton,  to  wed  a  nameless,  houseless  soldier  of  fortune, 
who  has  but  his  sword  and  some  gifts  of  nature  to  recom¬ 
mend  him  ?  Thy  excellent  father  will  surely  think  better 
of  this,  and  we  will  speak  of  it  no  more !  ” 

“  Were  I  to  listen  to  the  common  feelings  of  my  sex, 
Sigismund,  this  reluctance  to  accept  what  both  my  father 
and  myself  offer  might  cause  me  to  feign  displeasure.  But, 
between  thee  and  me,  there  shall  be  naught  but  holy  truth. 
My  father  has  well  weighed  all  these  objections,  and  he  has 
generously  decided  to  forget  them.  As  for  me,  placed  in 
the  scale  against  thy  merits,  they  have  never  weighed  at 
all.  If  thou  canst  not  become  noble  in  order  that  we  may 
be  equals,  I  shall  find  more  happiness  in  descending  to  thy 
level,  than  by  living  in  heartless  misery  at  the  vain  height 
where  I  have  been  placed  by  accident.” 

“  Blessed,  ingenuous  girl !  But  what  does  it  all  avail  ? 
Our  marriage  is  impossible.” 


158 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  If  thou  knowest  of  any  obstacle  that  would  render  it 
improper  for  a  weak,  but  virtuous  girl  ”  — 

“  Hold,  Adelheid  !  —  do  not  finish  the  sentence.  I  am 
sufficiently  humbled  —  sufficiently  debased — without  this 
cruel  suspicion.” 

“  Then  why  is  our  union  impossible  —  when  my  father 
not  only  consents,  but  wishes  it  may  take  place  ?  ” 

“  Give  me  time  for  thought  —  thou  shalt  know  all, 
Adelheid,  sooner  or  later.  Yes,  this  is,  at  least,  due  to  thy 
noble  frankness.  Thou  shouldst  iu  justice  have  known  it 
long  before.” 

Adelheid  regarded  him  in  speechless  apprehension,  for 
the  evident  and  violent  physical  struggles  of  the  young 
man  too  fearfully  announced  the  mental  agony  he  endured. 
The  color  had  fled  from  her  own  face,  in  which  the  beauty 
of  expression  now  reigned  undisputed  mistress ;  but  it  was 
the  expression  of  the  mingled  sentiments  of  wonder,  dread, 
tenderness,  and  alarm.  He  saw  that  his  own  sufferings 
were  fast  communicating  themselves  to  his  companion,  and, 
by  a  powerful  effort,  he  so  far  mastered  his  emotions  as  to 
regain  a  portion  of  his  self-command. 

“  This  explanation  has  been  too  heedlessly  delayed,”  he 
continued  ;  “  cost  what  it  may,  it  shall  be  no  longer  post¬ 
poned.  Thou  wilt  not  accuse  me  of  cruelty,  or  of  dishon¬ 
est  silence,  but  remember  the  failing  of  human  nature,  and 
pity  rather  than  blame  a  weakness  which  may  be  the  cause 
of  as  much  future  sorrow  to  thyself,  beloved  Adelheid,  as  it 
is  now  of  bitter  regret  to  me.  I  have  never  concealed 
from  thee  that  my  birth  is  derived  from  that  class  which 
throughout  Europe  is  believed  to  be  of  inferior  rights  to 
thine  own ;  on  this  head,  I  am  proud  rather  than  humble, 
for  the  invidious  distinctions  of  usage  have  too  often  pro¬ 
voked  comparisons,  and  I  have  been  in  situations  to  know 
that  the  mere  accidents  of  descent  bestow  neither  personal 
excellence,  superior  courage,  nor  higher  intellect.  Though 
human  inventions  may  serve  to  depress  the  less  fortunate, 
God  has  given  fixed  limits  to  the  means  of  men.  He  that 
would  be  greater  than  his  kind,  and  illustrious  by  unnatural 
expedients,  must  debase  others  to  attain  his  end.  By  dif 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


159 


ferent  means  than  these  there  is  no  nobility,  and  he  who  is 
unwilling  to  admit  an  inferiority  which  exists  only  in  idea 
can  never  be  humbled  by  an  artifice  so  shallow.  On  the 
subject  of  mere  birth,  as  it  is  ordinarily  estimated,  whether 
it  come  from  pride,  or  philosophy,  or  the  habit  of  com¬ 
manding  as  a  soldier  those  who  might  be  deemed  my  supe¬ 
riors  as  men,  I  have  never  been  very  sensitive.  Perhaps 
the  heavier  disgrace  which  crushes  me  may  have  caused 
this  want  to  appear  lighter  than  it  otherwise  might.” 

“  Disgrace !  ”  repeated  Adelheid,  in  a  voice  that  was 
nearly  choked.  “  The  word  is  fearful,  coming  from  one  of 
thy  regulated  mind,  and  as  applied  to  himself.” 

“  I  cannot  choose  another.  Disgrace  it  is  bv  the  common 
consent  of  men  —  by  long  and  enduring  opinion  —  it  would 
almost  seem  by  the  just  judgment  of  God.  Dost  thou  not 
believe,  Adelheid,  that  there  are  certain  races  which  are 
deemed  accursed,  to  answer  some  great  and  unseen  end  — 
races  on  whom  the  holy  blessings  of  Heaven  never  descend, 
as  they  visit  the  meek  and  well-deserving  that  come  of 
other  lines  !  ” 

“  How  can  I  believe  this  gross  injustice,  on  the  part  of 
a  Power  that  is  wise  without  bounds,  and  forgiving  to 
parental  love  ?  ” 

“  Thy  answer  would  be  well  were  this  earth  the  universe, 
or  this  state  of  being  the  last.  But  He  whose  sight  extends 
beyond  the  grave,  who  fashions  justice,  and  mercy,  and 
goodness,  on  a  scale  commensurate  with  his  own  attributes, 
and  not  according  to  our  limited  means,  is  not  to  be  esti¬ 
mated  by  the  narrow  rules  that  we  apply  to  men.  No,  we 
must  not  measure  the  ordinances  of  God  by  laws  that  are 
plausible  in  our  own  eyes.  Justice  is  a  relative  and  not  an 
abstract  quality  ;  and,  until  we  understand  the  relations  of 
the  Deity  to  ourselves  as  well  as  we  understand  our  own 
relations  to  the  Deity,  we  reason  in  the  dark.” 

“  I  do  not  like  to  hear  thee  speak  thus,  Sigismund,  and, 
least  of  all,  with  a  brow  so  clouded,  and  in  a  voice  so  hol¬ 
low  !  ” 

“  I  will  tell  my  tale  more  cheerfully,  dearest.  I  have  no 
right  to  make  thee  partner  of  my  misery  ;  and  yet  this  is 


180 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


the  manner  1  have  reasoned,  and  thought,  and  pondered  — 
aye,  until  my  brain  has  grown  heated,  and  the  power  to 
reason  itself  has  nearly  tottered.  Ever  since  that  accursed 
hour,  in  which  the  truth  became  known  to  me,  and  I  was 
made  the  master  of  the  fatal  secret,  have  I  endeavored  to 
feel  and  reason  thus.” 

“  What  truth  ?  —  what  secret  ?  If  thou  lovest  me,  Sigis- 
mund,  speak  calmly  and  without  reserve.” 

The  young  man  gazed  at  her  anxious  face  in  a  way  to 
show  how  deeply  he  felt  the  weight  of  the  blow  he  was 
about  to  give.  Then,  after  a  pause,  he  continued. 

“  We  have  lately  passed  through  a  terrible  scene  to¬ 
gether,  dearest  Adelheid.  It  was  one  that  may  well  lessen 
the  distances  set  between  us  by  human  laws  and  the  tyranny 
of  opinions.  Had  it  been  the  will  of  God  that  the  bark 
should  perish,  what  a  confused  crowd  of  ill-assorted  spirits 
would  have  passed  together  into  eternity  !  We  had  them 
there  of  all  degrees  of  vice,  as  of  nearly  all  degrees  of  culti¬ 
vation,  from  the  subtle  iniquity  of  the  wily  Neapolitan 
juggler  to  thine  own  pure  soul.  There  would  have  died  in 
the  Winkelried  the  noble  of  high  degree,  the  reverend 
priest,  the  soldier  in  the  pride  of  his  strength,  and  the 
mendicant !  Death  is  an  uncompromising  leveler,  and  the 
depths  of  the  lake,  at  least,  might  have  washed  out  all  our 
infamy,  whether  it  came  of  real  demerits  or  merely  from 
received  usage ;  even  the  luckless  Balthazar,  the  persecuted 
and  hated  headsman,  might  have  found  those  who  would 
have  mourned  his  loss.” 

“  If  any  could  have  died  unwept  in  meeting  such  a  fate, 
it  must  have  been  one  that,  in  common,  awakes  so  little  of 
human  sympathy  ;  and  one,  too,  who,  by  dealing  himself  in 
the  woes  of  others,  has  less  claim  to  the  compassion  that  we 
yield  to  most  of  our  species.” 

“  Spare  me  —  in  mercy,  Adelheid,  spare  me  —  thou 
speakest  of  my  father  !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


161 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Fortune  had  smiled  upon  Guelberto’s  birth, 

The  heir  of  Valdespesa's  rich  domain; 

An  only  child,  he  grew  in  years  and  worth, 

And  well  repaid  a  father’s  anxious  pain. 

Southey. 

As  Sigismund  uttered  this  communication,  so  terrible  to 
the  ear  of  the  listener,  he  arose  and  fled  from  the  room. 
The  possession  of  a  kingdom  would  not  have  tempted  him 
to  remain  and  note  its  effect.  The  domestics  of  Blonay 
observed  his  troubled  air  and  rapid  strides  as  he  passed 
them,  but  too  simple  to  suspect  more  than  the  ordinary 
impetuosity  of  youth,  he  succeeded  in  getting  through  the 
inferior  gate  of  the  castle  and  into  the  fields,  without  attract¬ 
ing  any  embarrassing  attention  to  his  movements.  Here 
he  began  to  breathe  more  freely,  and  the  load  which  had 
nearly  choked  his  respiration  became  lightened.  For  half 
an  hour  the  young  man  paced  the  greensward,  scarcely  con¬ 
scious  whither  he  went,  until  he  found  that  his  steps  had 
again  led  him  beneath  the  window  of  the  knights’  hall. 
Glancing  an  eye  upward,  he  saw  Adelheid  still  seated  at  the 
balcony,  and  apparently  yet  alone.  He  thought  she  had 
been  weeping,  and  he  cursed  the  weakness  which  had  kept 
him  from  effecting  the  often-renewed  resolution  to  remove 
himself  and  his  cruel  fortunes  forever  from  before  her  mind. 
A  second  look,  however,  showed  him  that  he  was  again 
beckoned  to  ascend  !  The  revolutions  in  the  purposes  of 
lovers  are  sudden  and  easily  effected ;  and  Sigismund, 
through  whose  mind  a  dozen  ill-digested  plans  of  placing 
the  sea  between  himself  and  her  he  loved  had  just  been 
floating,  was  now  hurriedly  retracing  his  steps  to  her  pres¬ 
ence. 

Adelheid  had  necessarily  been  educated  under  the  influ- 
11 


162 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ence  of  the  prejudices  of  the  age  and  of  the  country  in  which 
she  lived.  The  existence  of  the  office  of  headsman  in 
Berne,  and  the  nature  of  its  hereditary  duties,  were  well 
known  to  her  ;  and,  though  superior  to  the  inimical  feeling 
which  had  so  lately  been  exhibited  against  the  luckless  Bal¬ 
thazar,  she  had  certainly  never  anticipated  a  shock  so  cruel 
as  was  now  produced  by  abruptly  learning  that  this  despised 
and  persecuted  being  was  the  father  of  the  youth  to  whom 
she  had  yielded  her  virgin  affections.  When  the  words 
which  proclaimed  the  connection  had  escaped  the  lips  of 
Sigismund,  she  listened  like  one  who  fancied  that  her  ears 
deceived  her.  She  had  prepared  herself  to  learn  that  he 
derived  his  being  from  some  peasant  or  ignoble  artisan, 
and,  once  or  twice,  as  he  drew  nearer  to  the  fatal  declara¬ 
tion,  awkward  glimmerings  of  a  suspicion  that  some  repul¬ 
sive  moral  unworthiness  was  connected  with  his  origin 
troubled  her  imagination  ;  but  her  apprehensions  could  not, 
by  possibility,  once  turn  in  the  direction  of  the  revolting 
truth.  It  was  some  time  before  she  was  able  to  collect  her 
thoughts,  or  to  reflect  on  the  course  it  most  became  her  to 
pursue.  But,  as  has  been  seen,  it  was  not  long  before  she 
could  summon  the  self-command  to  request  what  she  now 
saw  was  doubly  necessary,  another  meeting  with  her  lover. 
As  both  had  thought  of  nothing  but  his  last  words  during 
the  short  separation,  there  appeared  no  abruptness  in  the 
manner  in  which  he  resumed  the  discourse,  on  seating  him¬ 
self  at  her  side,  exactly  as  if  they  had  not  parted  at  all. 

“  The  secret  has  been  torn  from  me,  Adelheid.  The 
headsman  of  the  canton  is  my  father  ;  were  the  fact  pub¬ 
licly  known,  the  heartless  and  obdurate  laws  would  compel 
me  to  be  his  successor.  He  has  no  other  child,  except  a 
gentle  girl  —  one  innocent  and  kind  as  thou.” 

Adelheid  covered  her  face  with  both  her  hands,  as  if  to 
shut  out  a  view  of  the  horrible  truth.  Perhaps  an  instinct¬ 
ive  reluctance  to  permit  her  companion  to  discover  how 
great  a  blow  had  been  given  by  this  avowal  of  his  birth, 
had  also  its  influence  in  producing  the  movement.  They 
who  have  passed  the  period  of  youth,  and  who  can  recall 
those  days  of  inexperience  and  hope,  when  the  affections 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


163 


are  fresh  and  the  heart  is  untainted  with  too  much  com¬ 
munion  with  the  world,  and  especially  they  who  know  of 
what  a  delicate  compound  of  the  imaginative  and  the  real 
the  master  passion  is  formed,  how  sensitively  it  regards  all 
that  can  reflect  credit  on  the  beloved  object,  and  with  what 
ingenuity  it  endeavors  to  find  plausible  excuses  for  every 
blot  that  may  happen,  either  by  accident  or  demerit,  to  tar¬ 
nish  the  lustre  of  a  picture  that  fancy  has  so  largely  aided 
in  drawing,  will  understand  the  rude  nature  of  the  shock 
that  she  had  received.  But  Adelheid  de  Willading,  though 
a  woman  in  the  liveliness  and  fervor  of  her  imagination,  as 
well  as  in  the  proneness  to  conceive  her  own  ingenuous  con¬ 
ceptions  to  be  more  founded  in  reality  than  a  sterner  view 
of  things  might  possibly  have  warranted,  was  a  woman  also 
in  the  more  generous  qualities  of  the  heart,  and  in  those 
enduring  principles,  which  seem  to  have  predisposed  the 
better  part  of  the  sex  to  make  the  heaviest  sacrifices  rather 
than  be  false  to  their  affections.  While  her  frame  shud¬ 
dered,  therefore,  with  the  violence  and  abruptness  of 
the  emotions  she  had  endured,  dawnings  of  the  right 
gleamed  upon  her  pure  mind,  and  it  was  not  long  before  she 
was  able  to  contemplate  the  truth  with  the  steadiness  of 
principle,  though  it  might,  at  the  same  time,  have  been  with 
much  of  the  lingering  weakness  of  humanity.  When  she 
lowered  her  hands,  she  looked  towards  the  mute  and  watch¬ 
ful  Sigismund  with  a  smile  that  caused  the  deadly  paleness 
of  her  features  to  resemble  a  gleam  of  the  sun  lighting 
upon  the  spotless  peak  of  her  native  mountains. 

“  It  would  be  vain  to  endeavor  to  conceal  from  thee, 
Sigismund,”  she  said,  “  that  I  could  wish  this  were  not  so. 
I  will  confess  even  more  —  that  when  the  truth  first  broke 
upon  me,  thy  repeated  services,  and,  what  is  even  less  par¬ 
donable,  thy  tried  worth,  were  for  an  instant  forgotten  in 
the  reluctance  I  felt  to  admit  that  my  fate  could  ever  be 
united  with  one  so  unhappily  situated.  There  are  moments 
when  prejudices  and  habits  are  stronger  than  reason  ;  but 
their  triumph  is  short  in  well  intentioned  minds.  The  ter¬ 
rible  injustice  of  our  laws  has  never  struck  me  with  such 
force  before,  though  last  night,  while  those  wretched  trav¬ 
ellers  were  so  eager  for  the  blood  of  — ■  of  ”  — 


164 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  My  father,  Adelheid.” 

“  Of  the  author  of  thy  being,  Sigismund,”  she  continued, 
with  a  solemnity  that  proved  to  the  young  man  how  deeply 
she  reverenced  the  tie,  “  I  was  compelled  to  see  that  soci¬ 
ety  might  be  cruelly  unjust ;  but  now  I  find  its  laws  and 
prohibitions  visiting  one  like  thee,  so  far  from  joining  in  its 
oppression,  my  soul  revolts  against  the  wrong.” 

“  Thanks  —  thanks —  a  thousand  thanks  !  ”  returned  the 
young  man,  fervently.  “  I  did  not  expect  less  than  this 
from  thee,  Mademoiselle  de  Willading.” 

“  If  thou  didst  not  expect  more  —  far  more,  Sigismund,” 
resumed  the  maiden,  her  ashen  hue  brightened  to  crimson, 
“  thou  hast  scarcely  been  less  unjust  than  the  world  ;  and 
I  will  add,  thou  hast  never  understood  that  Adelheid  de 
Willading,  whose  name  is  uttered  with  so  cold  a  form. 
We  all  have  moments  of  weakness  ;  moments  when  the 
seductions  of  life,  the  worthless  ties  which  bind  together 
the  thoughtless  and  selfish  in  what  are  called  the  interests 
of  the  world,  appear  of  more  value  than  aught  else.  I  am 
no  visionary,  to  fancy  imaginary  and  factitious  obligations 
superior  to  those  which  nature  and  wisdom  have  created  — • 
for  if  there  be  much  unjustifiable  cruelty  in  the  practices, 
there  is  also  much  that  is  wise  in  the  ordinances,  of  society 
—  or  to  think  that  a  wayward  fancy  is  to  be  indulged  at 
any  and  every  expense  to  the  feelings  and  opinions  of 
others.  On  the  contrary,  I  well  know  that  so  long  as  men 
exist  in  the  condition  in  which  they  are,  it  is  little  more 
than  common  prudence  to  respect  their  habits ;  and  that 
ill-assorted  unions,  in  general,  contain  in  themselves  a  dan¬ 
gerous  enemy  to  happiness.  Had  I  always  known  thy 
history,  dread  of  the  consequences,  or  those  cold  forms 
which  protect  the  fortunate,  would  probably  have  inter¬ 
posed  to  prevent  either  from  learning  much  of  the  other’s 
character.  I  say  not  this,  Sigismund,  as  by  thy  eye  I  see 
thou  wouldst  think,  in  reproach  for  any  deception,  for  I 
well  know  the  accidental  nature  of  our  acquaintance,  and 
that  the  intimacy  was  forced  upon  thee  by  our  own  impor¬ 
tunate  gratitude,  but  simply,  and  in  explanation  of  my  own 
feelings.  As  it  is,  we  are  not  to  judge  of  our  situation  by 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


165 


ordinary  rules,  and  I  am  not  now  to  decide  on  your  preten¬ 
sions  to  my  hand  merely  as'  the  daughter  of  the  Baron  de 
Willading  receiving  a  proposal  from  one  whose  birth  is  not 
noble,  but  as  Adelheid  should  weigh  the  claims  of  Sigis- 
mund,  subject  to  some  dimunition  of  advantages,  if  thou 
wilt,  that  is  perhaps  greater  than  she  had  at  first  antici¬ 
pated.” 

“  Dost  thou  consider  the  acceptance  of  my  hand  possible, 
after  what  thou  knowest !  ”  exclaimed  the  young  man,  in 
open  wonder. 

“  So  far  from  regarding  the  question  in  that  manner,  I 
ask  myself  if  it  will  be  right  —  if  it  be  possible,  to  reject 
the  preserver  of  my  own  life,  the  preserver  of  my  father’s 
life,  Sigismund  Steinbach,  because  he  is  the  son  of  one 
that  men  persecute  ?  ” 

“  Adelheid  !  ” 

“  Do  not  anticipate  my  words,”  said  the  maiden  calmly, 
but  in  a  way  to  check  his  impatience  by  the  quiet  dignity 
of  her  manner.  “  This  is  an  important,  I  might  say  a  sol¬ 
emn  decision,  and  it  has  been  presented  to  me  suddenly  and 
without  preparation.  Thou  wilt  not  think  the  worse  of 
me,  for  asking  time  to  reflect  before  I  give  the  pledge  that 
in  my  eyes  will  be  forever  sacred.  My  father,  believing 
thee  to  be  of  obscure  origin,  and  thoroughly  conscious  of 
thy  worth,  dear  Sigismund,  authorized  me  to  speak  as  I  did 
in  the  beginning  of  our  interview  ;  but  my  father  may  pos¬ 
sibly  think  the  conditions  of  his  consent  altered  by  this  un¬ 
happy  exposure  of  the  truth.  It  is  meet  that  I  tell  him 
all,  for  thou  knowest  I  must  abide  by  his  decision.  This 
thine  own  sense  and  filial  piety  will  approve.” 

In  spite  of  the  strong  objectionable  facts  that  he  had  just 
revealed,  hope  had  begun  to  steal  upon  the  wishes  of  the 
young  man,  as  he  listened  to  the  consoling  words  of  the 
single-minded  and  affectionate  Adelheid.  It  would  scarcely 
have  been  possible  for  a  youth  so  endowed  by  nature,  and 
one  so  inevitably  conscious  of  his  own  value,  though  so 
modest  in  its  exhibition,  not  to  feel  encouraged  by  her  in¬ 
genuous  and  frank  admission,  as  she  betrayed  his  influence 
over  her  happiness  in  the  undisguised  and  simple  manner 


166 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


related.  But  the  intention  to  appeal  to  her  father  caused 
him  to  view  the  subject  more  dispassionately,  for  his  strong 
sense  was  not  slow  in  pointing  out  the  difference  between 
the  two  judges,  in  a  case  like  his. 

“  Trouble  him  not,  Adelheid  ;  the  consciousness  that  his 
prudence  denies  what  a  generous  feeling  might  prompt  him 
to  bestow,  may  render  him  unhappy.  It  is  impossible  that 
Melchior  de  Willadinsj  should  consent  to  give  an  onlv  child 
to  a  son  of  the  headsman  of  his  canton.  At  some  other 
time,  when  the  recollections  of  the  late  storm  shall  be  less 
vivid,  thine  own  reason  will  approve  of  his  decision.” 

His  companion,  who  was  thoughtfully  leaning  her  spot¬ 
less  brow  on  her  hand,  did  not  appear  to  hear  his  words. 
She  had  recovered  from  the  shock  given  by  the  sudden  an¬ 
nouncement  of  his  origin,  and  was  now  musing  intently,  and 
with  cooler  discrimination,  on  the  commencement  of  their 
acquaintance,  its  progress,  and  all  its  little  incidents  down  to 
the  two  grave  events  which  had  so  gradually  and  firmly 
cemented  the  sentiments  of  esteem  and  admiration  in  the 
stronger  and  indelible  tie  of  affection. 

“  If  thou  art  the  son  of  him  thou  namest,  why  art  thou 
known  by  the  name  of  Steinbach,  when  Balthazar  bears 
another  ?  ”  demanded  Adelheid,  anxious  to  seize  even  the 
faintest  hold  of  hope. 

“  It  was  my  intention  to  conceal  nothing,  but  to  lay  be¬ 
fore  thee  the  history  of  my  life,  with  all  the  reasons  that 
may  have  influenced  my  conduct,”  returned  Sigismund  ;  “  at 
some  other  time,  when  both  are  in  a  calmer  state  of  mind, 
I  shall  dare  to  entreat  a  hearing  ”  — 

“  Delay  is  unnecessary  —  it  might  even  be  improper.  It 
is  my  duty  to  explain  everything  to  my  father,  and  he  may 
wish  to  know  why  thou  hast  not  always  appeared  what  thou 
art.  Do  not  fancy,  Sigismund,  that  I  distrust  thy  motive, 
but  the  wariness  of  the  old  and  the  confidence  of  the  young 
have  so  little  in  common  !  I  would  rather  that  thou  told 
me  now.” 

He  yielded  to  the  mild  earnestness  of  her  manner,  and  to 
the  sweet  but  sad  smile  with  which  she  seconded  the  appeal. 

“  If  thou  wilt  hear  the  melancholy  history,  Adelheid,”  he 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


167 


said,  “  there  is  no  sufficient  reason  why  I  should  wish  to 
postpone  the  little  it  will  be  necessary  to  say.  You  are 
probably  familiar  with  the  laws  of  the  canton,  I  mean  those 
cruel  ordinances  by  which  a  particular  family  is  condemned, 
for  a  better  word  can  scarcely  be  found,  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  this  revolting  office.  This  duty  may  have  been  a 
privilege  in  the  Dark  Ages,  but  it  is  now  become  a  tax  that 
none,  who  have  been  educated  with  better  hopes,  can  endure 
to  pay.  My  father,  trained  from  infancy  to  expect  the 
employment,  and  accustomed  to  its  discharge  in  contempla¬ 
tion,  succeeded  to  his  parent  while  yet  young  ;  and,  though 
formed  by  nature  a  meek  and  even  a  compassionate  man,  he 
has  never  shrunk  from  his  bloody  tasks,  whenever  required 
to  fulfill  them  by  the  command  of  his  superiors.  But, 
touched  by  a  sentiment  of  humanity,  it  was  his  wish  to  avert 
from  me  what  his  better  reason  led  him  to  think  the 
calamity  of  our  race.  I  am  the  eldest  born,  and,  strictly,  I 
was  the  child  most  liable  to  be  called  to  assume  the  office, 
but,  as  I  have  heard,  the  tender  love  of  my  mother  induced 
her  to  suggest  a  plan  by  which  I,  at  least,  might  be  rescued 
from  the  odium  that  had  so  long  been  attached  to  our  name. 
I  was  secretly  conveyed  from  the  house  while  yet  an  in¬ 
fant  ;  a  feigned  death  concealed  the  pious  fraud,  and  thus 
far,  Heaven  be  praised  !  the  authorities  are  ignorant  of  my 
birth  !  ” 

“  And  thy  mother,  Sigismund  ;  I  have  great  respect  for 
that  noble  mother,  who,  doubtless,  is  endowed  with  more 
than  her  sex’s  firmness  and  constancy,  since  she  must  have 
sworn  faith  and  love  to  thy  father,  knowing  his  duties  and 
the  hopelessness  of  their  being  evaded  ?  I  feel  a  reverence 
for  a  woman  so  superior  to  the  weaknesses,  and  yet  so  true 
to  the  real  and  best  affections,  of  her  sex  !  ” 

The  young  man  smiled  so  painfully  as  to  cause  his  enthu¬ 
siastic  companion  to  regret  that  she  had  put  the  question. 

“  My  mother  is  certainly  a  woman  not  only  to  be  loved 
but  in  many  particulars  deeply  to  be  revered.  My  poor 
and  noble  mother  has  a  thousand  excellences,  being  a  most 
tender  parent,  with  a  heart  so  kind  that  it  would  grieve  her 
to  see  injury  done  even  to  the  meanest  living  thing.  She 


168 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


was  not  a  woman,  surely,  intended  by  God  to  be  the  mother 
of  a  line  of  executioners  !  ” 

“  Thou  seest,  Sigismund,”  said  Adelheid,  nearly  breathless 
in  the  desire  to  seek  an  excuse  for  her  own  predilections, 
and  to  lessen  the  mental  agony  he  endured  —  “  thou  seest 
that  one  gentle  and  excellent  woman,  at  least,  could  trust 
her  happiness  to  thy  family.  No  doubt  she  was  the 
daughter  of  some  worthy  and  just-viewing  burgher  of  the 
canton,  that  had  educated  his  child  to  distinguish  between 
misfortune  and  crime  ?  ” 

“  She  was  an  only  child  and  an  heiress,  like  thyself, 
Adelheid,”  he  answered,  looking  about  him  as  if  he  sought 
some  object  on  which  he  might  cast  part  of  the  bitterness 
that  loaded  his  heart.  “  Thou  art  not  less  the  beloved  and 
cherished  of  thine  own  parent  than  was  my  excellent 
mother  of  hers  !  ” 

“  Sigismund,  thy  manner  is  startling  !  What  wouldst 
thou  say  ?  ” 

“  Neufchatel,  and  other  countries  besides  Berne,  have 
their  privileged  !  My  mother  was  the  only  child  of  the 
headsman  of  the  first.  Thus  thou  seest,  Adelheid,  that  I 
boast  my  quarterings  as  well  as  another.  God  be  praised  ! 
we  are  not  legally  compelled,  however,  to  butcher  the  con¬ 
demned  of  any  country  but  our  own  !  ” 

The  wild  bitterness  with  which  this  was  uttered,  and  the 
energy  of  his  language,  struck  thrilling  chords  on  every 
nerve  of  his  listener. 

“  So  many  honors  should  not  be  unsupported,”  he  re¬ 
sumed.  “  We  are  rich,  for  people  of  humble  wishes,  and 
have  ample  means  of  living  without  the  revenues  of  our 
charge  —  I  love  to  put  forth  our  long-acquired  honors  ! 
The  means  of  a  respectable  livelihood  are  far  from  being 
wanted.  I  have  told  you  of  the  kind  intentions  of  my 
mother  to  redeem  one  of  her  children,  at  least,  from  the 
stigma  which  weighed  upon  us  all,  and  the  birth  of  a  second 
son  enabled  her  to  effect  this  charitable  purpose,  without 
attracting  attention.  I  was  nursed  and  educated  apart,  for 
many  years,  in  ignorance  of  my  birth.  At  a  suitable  age, 
notwithstanding  the  early  death  of  my  brother,  I  was  sent 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


169 


to  seek  advancement  in  the  service  of  the  house  of  Austria, 
under  the  feigned  name  I  bear.  I  will  not  tell  thee  the  an¬ 
guish  I  felt,  Adelheid,  when  the  truth  was  at  length  re¬ 
vealed  !  Of  all  the  cruelties  inflicted  by  society,  there  is 
none  so  unrighteous  in  its  nature  as  the  stigma  it  entails  in 
the  succession  of  crime  or  misfortune  ;  of  all  its  favors,  none 
can  find  so  little  justification,  in  right  and  reason,  as  the 
privileges  accorded  to  the  accident  of  descent.” 

“  And  yet  we  are  much  accustomed  to  honor  those  that 
come  of  an  ancient  line,  and  to  see  some  part  of  the  glory 
of  the  ancestor  even  in  the  most  remote  descendant.” 

“  The  more  remote,  the  greater  is  the  world’s  deference. 
What  better  proof  can  we  have  of  the  world’s  weakness  ? 
Thus  the  immediate  child  of  the  hero,  he  whose  blood  is 
certain,  who  bears  the  image  of  the  father  in  his  face,  who 
has  listened  to  his  counsels,  and  may  be  supposed  to  have 
derived  at  least  some  portion  of  his  greatness  from  the 
nearness  of  his  origin,  is  less  a  prince  than  he  who  has  im¬ 
bibed  the  current  through  a  hundred  vulgar  streams,  and, 
were  truth  but  known,  may  have  no  natural  claim  at  all 
upon  the  much-prized  blood !  This  comes  of  artfully  lead¬ 
ing  the  mind  to  prejudices,  and  of  a  vicious  longing  in  man 
to  forget  his  origin  and  destiny,  by  wishing  to  be  more  than 
nature  ever  intended  he  should  become.” 

“  Surely,  Sigismund,  there  is  something  justifiable  in  the 
sentiment  of  desiring  to  belong  to  the  good  and  noble !  ” 

“If  good  and  noble  were  the  same.  Thou  hast  well 
designated  the  feeling ;  so  long  as  it  is  truly  a  sentiment,  it 
is  not  only  excusable  but  wise ;  for  who  would  not  wish  to 
come  of  the  brave,  and  honest,  and  learned,  or  by  what 
other  greatness  they  may  be  known  ?  —  it  is  wise,  since  the 
legacy  of  his  virtues  is  perhaps  the  dearest  incentive  that  a 
good  man  has  for  struggling  against  the  currents  of  baser 
interest ;  but  what  hope  is  left  to  one  like  me,  who  finds 
himself  so  placed  that  he  can  neither  inherit  nor  transmit 
aught  but  disgrace  !  I  do  not  affect  to  despise  the  advan¬ 
tages  of  birth,  simply  because  I  do  not  possess  them  ;  I 
only  complain  that  artful  combinations  have  perverted  what 
should  be  sentiment  and  taste,  into  a  narrow  and  vulgar 


170 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


prejudice,  by  which  the  really  ignoble  enjoy  privileges 
greater  than  those  perhaps  who  are  worthy  of  the  highest 
honors  man  can  bestow.” 

Adelbeid  had  encouraged  the  digression,  which,  with  one 
less  gifted  with  strong  good  sense  than  Sigismund,  might 
have  only  served  to  wound  his  pride,  but  she  perceived  that 
he  eased  his  mind  by  thus  drawing  on  his  reason,  and  by 
setting  up  that  which  should  be  in  opposition  to  that  which 
was. 

“  Thou  knowest,”  she  answered,  “  that  neither  my  father 
nor  I  am  disposed  to  lay  much  stress  on  the  opinions  of  the 
world,  as  it  concerns  thee.” 

“  That  is,  neither  will  insist  on  nobility  ;  but  will  either 
consent  to  share  the  obloquy  of  a  union  with  an  hereditary 
executioner  ?  ” 

“  Thou  hast  not  yet  related  all  it  may  be  necessary  to 
know,  that  we  may  decide.” 

“  There  is  left  little  to  explain.  The  expedient  of  my 
kind  parents  has  thus  far  succeeded.  Their  two  surviving 
children,  my  sister  and  myself,  were  snatched,  for  a  time  at 
least,  from  their  accursed  fortune,  while  my  poor  brother, 
who  promised  little,  was  left,  by  a  partiality  I  will  not  stop 
to  examine,  to  pass  as  the  inheritor  of  our  infernal  priv¬ 
ileges —  nay,  pardon,  dearest  Adelheid,  I  will  be  more  cool ; 
but  death  has  saved  the  youth  from  the  execrable  duties, 
and  I  am  now  the  only  male  child  of  Balthazar  —  yes,”  he 
added,  laughing  frightfully,  “  I,  too,  have  now  a  narrow 
monopoly  of  all  the  honors  of  our  house  !  ” 

“  Thou  —  thou,  Sigismund  —  with  thy  habits,  thy  educa¬ 
tion,  thy  fbelings,  thou  surely  canst  not  be  required  to  dis¬ 
charge  the  duties  of  this  horrible  office  !  ” 

“  It  is  easy  to  see  that  my  high  privileges  do  not  charm 
you,  Mademoiselle  de  Willading  ;  nor  can  I  wonder  at  the 
taste.  My  chief  surprise  should  be,  that  you  so  long 
tolerate  an  executioner  in  your  presence.” 

u  Did  I  not  know  and  understand  the  bitterness  of  feel¬ 
ing  natural  to  one  so  placed,  this  language  would  cruelly 
hurt  me,  Sigismund  ;  but  thou  canst  not  truly  mean  there 
is  a  real  danger  of  thy  ever  being  called  to  execute  this 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


1T1 


duty  ?  Should  there  be  the  chance  of  such  a  calamity,  may 
not  the  influence  of  my  father  avert  it?  He  is  not  without 
weight  in  the  councils  of  the  canton.” 

“  At  present  his  friendship  need  not  be  taxed,  for  none 
but  my  parents,  my  sister,  and  thou,  Adelheid,  are  ac¬ 
quainted  with  the  facts  I  have  just  related.  My  poor  sister 
is  an  artless,  but  unhappy  girl,  for  the  well-intentioned 
design  of  our  mother  has  greatly  disqualified  her  from  bear¬ 
ing  the  truth  as  she  might  have  done,  had  it  been  kept  con¬ 
stantly  before  her  eyes.  To  the  world,  a  young  kinsman 
of  my  father  appears  destined  to  succeed  him,  and  there  the 
matter  must  stand  until  fortune  shall  decide  differently. 
As  respects  my  poor  sister,  there  is  some  little  hope  that 
the  evil  may  be  altogether  averted.  She  is  on  the  point 
of  a  marriage  here  at  Yevey,  that  may  be  the  means  of 
concealing  her  origin  in  new  ties.  As  for  me,  time  must 
decide  my  fate.” 

“  Why  should  the  truth  be  ever  known !  ”  exclaimed 
Adelheid,  nearly  gasping  for  breath,  in  her  eagerness  to 
propose  some  expedient  that  should  rescue  Sigismund  for¬ 
ever  from  so  odious  an  office.  “  Thou  sayest  that  there  are 
ample  means  in  thy  family  —  relinquish  all  to  this  youth, 
on  condition  that  he  assume  thy  place  !  ” 

“  I  would  gladly  beggar  myself  to  be  quit  of  it  ”  — 

“  Nay,  thou  wilt  not  be  a  beggar  while  there  is  wealth 
among  the  De  Willadings.  Let  the  final  decision,  in 
respect  to  other  things,  be  what  it  may,  this  we  can  at 
least  promise !  ” 

“  My  sword  will  prevent  me  from  being  under  the  ne¬ 
cessity  of  accepting  the  boon  thou  wouldst  offer.  With 
this  good  sword  I  can  always  command  an  honorable  ex¬ 
istence,  should  Providence  save  me  from  the  disgrace  of 
exchanging  it  for  that  of  the  executioner.  But  there  exists 
an  obstacle  of  which  thou  hast  not  yet  heard.  My  sister, 
who  has  certainly  no  admiration  for  the  honors  that  have 
humiliated  our  race  for  so  many  generations  —  I  might  say 
ages  — -  have  we  not  ancient  honors,  Adelheid,  a*s  well  as 
thou  ?  —  my  sister  is  contracted  to  one  who  bargains  for 
eternal  secrecy  on  this  point,  as  the  condition  of  his  ac- 


172 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


cepting  the  hand  and  ample  dowry  of  one  of  the  gentlest 
of  human  beings  !  Thou  seest  that  others  are  not  as  gen¬ 
erous  as  thyself,  Adelheid  !  My  father,  anxious  to  dispose 
of  his  child,  has  consented  to  the  terms,  and  as  the  youth 
who  is  next  in  succession  to  the  family  honors  is  little 
disposed  to  accept  them,  and  has  already  some  suspicion  of 
the  deception  as  respects  her,  I  may  be  compelled  to  appear 
in  order  to  protect  the  offspring  of  my  unoffending  sister 
from  the  curse.” 

This  was  assailing  Adelheid  in  a  point  where  she  was 
the  weakest.  One  of  her  generous  temperament  and  self- 
denying  habits  could  scarce  entertain  the  wish  of  exacting 
that  from  another  which  she  was  not  willing  to  undergo 
herself, -and  the  hope  that  had  just  been  reviving  in  her 
heart  was  nearly  extinguished  by  the  discovery.  Still  she 
was  so  much  in  the  habit  of  feeling  under  the  guidance  of 
her  excellent  sense,  and  it  was  so  natural  to  cling  to  her 
just  wishes,  while  there  was  a  reasonable  chance  of  their 
being  accomplished,  that  she  did  not  despair. 

“  Thy  sister  and  her  future  husband  know  her  birth,  and 
understand  the  chances  they  run.” 

“  She  knows  all  this,  and  such  is  her  generosity,  that  she 
is  not  disposed  to  betray  me  in  order  to  serve  herself.  But 
this  self-denial  forms  an  additional  obligation  on  my  part  to 
declare  myself  the  wretch  I  am.  I  cannot  say  that  my 
sister  is  accustomed  to  regard  our  long-endured  fortunes 
with  all  the  horror  I  feel,  for  she  has  been  longer  ac¬ 
quainted  with  the  facts,  and  the  domestic  habits  of  her  sex 
have  left  her  less  exposed  to  the  encounter  of  the  world’s 
hatred,  and  perhaps  she  is  partly  ignorant  of  all  the  odium 
we  sustain.  My  long  absences  in  foreign  services  delayed 
the  confidence  as  respects  myself,  while  the  yearnings  of  a 
mother  towards  an  only  daughter  caused  her  to  be  received 
into  the  family,  though  still  in  secret,  several  years  before  I 
was  told  the  truth.  She  is  also  much  my  junior  ;  and  all 
these  causes,  with  some  difference  in  our  education,  have 
less  disposed  her  to  misery  than  I  am ;  for  while  my  father, 
with  a  cruel  kindness,  had  me  well  and  even  liberally  in¬ 
structed,  Christine  was  taught  as  better  became  the  hopes 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


1T3 


and  origin  of  both.  Now  tell  me,  Adelheid,  that  thou 
hatest  me  for  my  parentage,  and  despisest  me  for  having  so 
long  dared  to  intrude  on  thy  company,  with  the  full  con¬ 
sciousness  of  what  I  am  forever  present  to  my  thoughts  !  ” 
I  like  not  to  hear  thee  make  these  bitter  allusions  to  an 
accident  of  this  nature,  Sigismund.  Were  I  to  tell  thee 
that  I  do  not  feel  this  circumstance  with  nearly,  if  not  quite, 
as  much  poignancy  as  thyself,”  added  the  ingenuous  girl,  with 
a  noble  frankness,  “  I  should  do  injustice  to  my  gratitude 
and  to  my  esteem  for  thy  character.  But  there  is  more 
elasticity  in  the  heart  of  woman  than  in  that  of  thy  impe¬ 
rious  and  proud  sex.  So  far  from  thinking  of  thee  as  thou 
wouldst  fain  believe,  I  see  naught  but  what  is  natural  and 
justifiable  in  thy  reserve.  Remember,  thou  hast  not  tempted 
my  ears  by  professions  and  prayers,  as  women  are  commonly 
entreated,  but  that  the  interest  I  feel  in  thee  has  been  mod¬ 
estly  and  fairly  won.  I  can  neither  say  nor  hear  more  at 
present,  for  this  unexpected  announcement  has  in  some 
degree  unsettled  my  mind.  Leave  me  to  reflect  on  what  I 
ought  to  do,  and  rest  assured  that  thou  canst  not  have  a 
kinder  or  more  partial  advocate  of  what  truly  belongs  to 
thy  honor  and  happiness  than  my  own  heart.” 

As  the  daughter  of  Melchior  de  Willading  concluded,  she 
extended  her  hand  with  affection  to  the  young  man,  who 
pressed  it  against  his  breast  with  manly  tenderness,  when  he 
slowly  and  reluctantly  withdrew. 


174 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

To  know  no  more 

Is  woman’s  happiest  knowledge,  and  her  praise. 

Milton. 

Our  heroine  was  a  woman  in  the  best  meaning  of  that 
endearing,  and,  we  might  add,  comprehensive  word.  Sen¬ 
sitive,  reserved,  and  at  times  even  timid,  on  points  that  did 
not  call  for  the  exercise  of  higher  qualities,  she  was  firm 
in  her  principles,  constant  as  she  was  fond  in  her  affections, 
and  self-devoted  when  duty  and  inclination  united  to  induce 
the  concession,  to  a  degree  that  placed  the  idea  of  sacrifice 
out  of  the  question.  On  the  other  hand,  the  liability  to 
receive  lively  impressions,  a  distinctive  feature  of  her  sex, 
and  the  aptitude  to  attach  importance  to  the  usages  by 
which  she  was  surrounded,  and  which  is  necessarily  greatest 
in  those  who  lead  secluded  and  inactive  lives,  rendered  it 
additionally  difficult  for  her  mind  to  escape  from  the  tram¬ 
mels  of  opinion,  and  to  think  with  indifference  of  circum¬ 
stances  which  all  near  her  treated  with  high  respect,  or  to 
which  they  attached  a  stigma  allied  to  disgust.  Had  the 
case  been  reversed,  had  Sigismund  been  noble,  and  Adel- 
heid  a  headsman's  child,  it  is  probable  the  young  man  might 
have  found  the  means  to  indulge  his  passion  without  making 
too  great  a  sacrifice  of  his  pride.  By  transporting  his  wife 
to  his  castle,  conferring  his  own  established  name,  separat¬ 
ing  her  from  all  that  was  unpleasant  and  degrading  in  the 
connection,  and  finding  occupation  for  his  own  mind  in  the 
multiplying  and  engrossing  employments  of  his  station,  he 
would  have  diminished  motives  for  contemplating,  and  con¬ 
sequently  for  lamenting,  the  objectionable  features  of  the  al¬ 
liance  he  had  made.  These  are  the  advantages  which  nature 
and  the  laws  of  society  give  to  man  over  the  weaker  but 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


1T5 


the  truer  sex ;  and  yet  how  few  would  have  had  sufficient 
generosity  to  make  even  the  sacrifice  of  feeling  which  such 
a  course  required !  On  the  other  hand,  Adelheid  would  be 
compelled  to  part  with  the  ancient  and  distinguished  appel¬ 
lation  of  her  family,  to  adopt  one  which  was  deemed  infa¬ 
mous  in  the  canton,  or,  if  some  politic  expedient  were  found 
to  avert  this  first  disgrace,  it  would  unavoidably  be  of  a 
nature  to  attract,  rather  than  to  avert,  the  attention  of  all 
who  knew  the  facts,  from  the  humiliating  character  of  his 
origin.  She  had  no  habitual  relief  against  the  constant 
action  of  her  thoughts,  for  the  sphere  of  woman  narrows  the 
affections  in  such  a  way  as  to  render  them  most  dependent  on 
the  little  accidents  of  domestic  life  ;  she  could  not  close  her 
doors  against  communication  with  the  kinsman  of  her  hus¬ 
band,  should  it  be  his  pleasure  to  command  or  his  feeling  to 
desire  it ;  and  it  would  become  obligatory  on  her  to  listen 
to  the  still  but  never-ceasing  voice  of  duty,  and  to  forget,  at 
liis  request,  that  she  had  ever  been  more  fortunate,  or  that 
she  was  born  for  better  hopes. 

We  do  not  say  that  all  these  calculations  crossed  the 
mind  of  the  musing  maiden,  though  she  certainly  had  a  gen¬ 
eral  and  vague  view  of  the  consequences  that  were  likely 
to  be  drawn  upon  herself  by  a  connection  with  Sigismund. 
She  sat  motionless,  buried  in  deep  thought,  long  after  his 
disappearance.  The  young  man  had  passed  by  the  post¬ 
ern  around  the  base  of  the  castle,  and  was  descending  the 
mountain-side  across  the  sloping  meadows,  with  rapid  steps, 
and  probably  for  the  first  time  since  their  acquaintance 
her  eye  followed  his  manly  figure  vacantly  and  with  indif¬ 
ference. 

Her  mind  was  too  intently  occupied  for  the  usual  obser¬ 
vation  of  the  senses.  The  whole  of  that  grand  and  lovely 
landscape  was  spread  before  her  without  conveying  impres¬ 
sions,  as  we  gaze  into  the  void  of  the  firmament  with  our 
looks  on  vacuum.  Sigismund  had  disappeared  among  the 
walls  of  the  vineyards,  when  she  arose,  and  drew  such  a 
sigh  as  is  apt  to  escape  us  after  long  and  painful  meditation. 
But  the  eyes  of  the  high-minded  girl  were  bright,  and  her 
cheek  flushed,  while  the  whole  of  her  features  wore  an  ex- 


176 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


pression  of  loftier  beauty  than  ordinarily  distinguished  even 
her  loveliness.  Her  own  resolution  was  formed.  She  had 
decided  with  the  rare  and  generous  self-devotion  of  a  female 
heart  that  loves,  and  which  can  love  in  its  freshness  and 
purity  but  once.  At  that  instant  footsteps  were  heard  in 
the  corridor,  and  the  three  old  nobles  whom  we  so  lately 
left  on  the  castle  terrace,  appeared  together  in  the  knights’ 
hall. 

Melchoir  de  Willading  approached  his  daughter  with  a 
joyous  face,  for  he,  too,  had  lately  gained  what  he  conceived 
to  be  a  glorious  conquest  over  his  prejudices,  and  the  victory 
put  him  in  excellent  humor  with  himself. 

“  The  question  is  forever  decided,”  he  said,  kissing  the 
burning  forehead  of  Adelheid  with  affection,  and  rubbing  his 
hands  in  the  manner  of  one  who  was  glad  to  be  free  from  a 
perplexing  doubt.  “  These  good  friends  agree  with  me, 
that  in  a  case  like  this,  it  becomes  even  our  birth  to  forget 
the  origin  of  the  youth.  He  who  has  saved  the  lives  of  the 
two  last  of  the  Willadings  at  least  deserves  to  have  some 
share  in  what  is  left  of  them.  Here  is  my  good  Grimaldi, 
too,  ready  to  beard  me  if  I  will  not  consent  to  let  him  en¬ 
rich  the  brave  fellow  —  as  if  we  were  beggars,  and  had  not 
the  means  of  supporting  our  kinsman  in  credit  at  home. 
But  we  will  not  be  indebted  even  to  so  tried  a  friend  for  a 
tittle  of  our  happiness.  The  work  shall  be  all  our  own, 
even  to  the  letters  of  nobility,  which  I  shall  command  at  an 
early  day  from  Vienna  ;  for  it  would  be  cruel  to  let  the 
noble  fellow  want  so  simple  an  advantage,  which  will  at 
once  raise  him  to  our  own  level,  and  make  him  as  good — ■ 
aye,  by  the  beard  of  Luther  !  better  than  the  best  man  in 
Berne.” 

“  I  have  never  known  thee  niggardly  before,  though  I 
have  known  thee  often  well  intrenched  behind  Swiss  fru¬ 
gality,”  said  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  laughing.  “  Thy  life,  my 
dear  Melchior,  may  have  excellent  value  in  thine  own  eyes, 
but  I  am  little  disposed  to  set  so  mean  a  price  on  my  own, 
as  thou  appearest  to  think  it  should  command.  Thou  hast 
decided  well,  I  will  say  nobly,  in  the  best  meaning  of  the 
word,  in  consenting  to  receive  this  brave  Sigismund  as  a 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


177 


son  ;  but  thou  art  not  to  think,  young  lady,  because  this 
body  of  mine  is  getting  the  worse  for  use,  that  I  hold  it 
altogether  worthless,  and  that  it  is  to  be  dragged  from  yon¬ 
der  lake  like  so  much  foul  linen,  and  no  questions  are  to  be 
asked  touching  the  manner  in  which  the  service  has  been 
done.  I  claim  to  portion  thy  husband,  that  he  may  at  least 
make  an  appearance  that  becomes  the  son-in-law  of  Mel¬ 
chior  de  Willading.  Am  I  of  no  value,  that  ye  treat  me  so 
unceremoniously  as  to  say  I  shall  not  pay  for  my  own  pres¬ 
ervation  ?  ” 

“  Have  it  thine  own  way,  good  Gaetano  —  have  it  as  thou 
wilt,  so  thou  dost  but  leave  us  the  youth  ”  — 

“  F ather  ”  — 

“  I  will  have  no  maidenly  affectation,  Adelheid.  I  ex¬ 
pect  thee  to  receive  the  husband  we  offer  with  as  good  a 
grace  as  if  he  wore  a  crown.  It  has  been  agreed  upon  be¬ 
tween  us  that  Sigismund  Steinbach  is  to  be  my  son  ;  and 
from  time  immemorial  the  daughters  of  our  house  have  sub¬ 
mitted,  in  these  affairs,  to  what  has  been  advised  by  the 
wisdom  of  their  seniors,  as  became  their  sex  and  inexperi¬ 
ence.” 

The  three  old  men  had  entered  the  hall  full  of  good 
humor,  and  it  would  have  been  sufficiently  apparent,  by  the 
manner  of  the  Baron  de  Willading,  that  he  trifled  with 
Adelheid,  had  it  not  been  well  known  to  the  others  that  her 
feelings  were  chiefly  consulted  in  the  choice  that  had  just 
been  made. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  high  glee  in  which  the  father 
spoke,  the  pleasure  and  buoyancy  of  his  manner  did  not 
communicate  itself  to  the  child  as  quickly  as  he  could  wish. 
There  was  far  more  than  virgin  embarrassment  in  the  mien 
of  Adelheid.  Her  color  went  and  came,  and  her  look 
turned  from  one  to  the  other  painfully,  while  she  struggled 
to  speak.  The  Signor  Grimaldi  whispered  to  his  com¬ 
panions,  and  Roger  de  Blonay  discreetly  withdrew,  under 
the  pretense  that  his  services  were  needed  at  Vevey,  where 
active  preparations  were  making  for  the  Abbaye  des  Yigne- 
rons.  The  Genoese  would  then  have  followed  his  example, 

but  the  baron  held  his  arm,  while  he  turned  an  inquiring 

12 


178 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


eye  towards  his  daughter,  as  if  commanding  her  to  deal 

more  frankly  with  him. 

«/ 

“  Father,”  said  Adelheid,  in  a  voice  that  shook,  in  spite 
of  the  effort  to  control  her  feelings,  “  I  have  something 
important  to  communicate,  before  this  acceptance  of  Herr 
Steinbach  is  a  matter  irrevocably  determined.” 

“  Speak  freely,  my  child  ;  this  is  a  tried  friend,  and  one 
entitled  to  know  all  that  concerns  us,  especially  in  this 
affair.  Throwing  aside  all  pleasantry,  I  trust,  Adelheid, 
that  we  are  to  have  no  girlish  trifling  with  a  youth  like 
Sigismund  ;  to  whom  we  owe  so  much,  even  to  our  lives, 
and  in  whose  behalf  we  should  be  ready  to  sacrifice  every 
feeling  of  prejudice,  or  habits — all  that  we  possess,  aye, 
even  to  our  pride.” 

“  All,  father  ?  ” 

“  I  have  said  all.  I  will  not  take  back  a  letter  of  the 
word,  though  it  should  rob  me  of  Willading,  my  rank  in  the 
canton,  and  an  ancient  name  to  boot.  Am  I  not  right, 
Gaetano  ?  I  place  the  happiness  of  the  boy  above  all 
other  considerations,  that  of  Adelheid  being  understood  to 
be  so  intimately  blended  with  his.  I  repeat  it,  therefore, 
all.” 

“It  would  be  well  to  hear  what  the  young  lady  has  to 
say,  before  we  urge  this  affair  any  further,”  said  the  Signor 
Grimaldi,  who,  having  achieved  no  conquest  over  himself, 
was  not  quite  so  exuberant  in  his  exultation  as  his  friend ; 
observing  more  calmly,  and  noting  what  he  saw  with  the 
clearness  of  a  cooler-headed  and  more  sagacious  man.  “  I 
am  much  in  error,  or  thy  daughter  has  that  which  is  seri¬ 
ous  to  communicate.” 

The  paternal  affection  of  Melchior  now  took  the  alarm, 
and  he  gave  an  eager  attention  to  his  child.  Adelheid 
returned  his  evident  solicitude  by  a  smile  of  love,  but  its 
painful  expression  was  so  unequivocal  as  to  heighten  the 
baron’s  fears. 

“  Art  not  well,  love  ?  It  cannot  be  that  we  have  been 
deceived  —  that  some  peasant’s  daughter  is  thought  worthy 
to  supplant  thee  ?  Ha  !  —  Signor  Grimaldi,  this  matter 
begins,  in  sooth,  to  seem  offensive  ;  but,  old  as  I  am  —  well, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


179 


we  shall  never  know  the  truth,  unless  thou  speakest 
frankly  ;  this  is  a  rare  business,  after  all,  Gaetano  —  that  a 
daughter  of  mine  should  be  repulsed  by  a  hind  !  ” 

Adelheid  made  an  imploring  gesture  for  her  father  to 
forbear,  while  she  resumed  her  seat  from  further  inability 
to  stand.  The  two  anxious  old  men  followed  her  example, 
in  wondering  silence. 

“  Thou  dost  both  the  honor  and  modesty  of  Sigismund 
great  injustice,  father,”  resumed  the  maiden,  after  a  pause, 
and  speaking  with  a  calmness  of  manner  that  surprised  even 
herself.  “  If  thou  and  this  excellent  and  tried  friend  will 
give  me  your  attention  for  a  few  minutes,  nothing  shall  be 
concealed.” 

Her  companions  listened  in  wonder,  for  they  plainly  saw 
that  the  matter  was  more  grave  than  either  had  at  first 
imagined.  Adelheid  paused  again,  to  summon  force  for  the 
ungrateful  duty,  and  then  she  succinctly,  but  clearly,  related 
the  substance  of  Sigismund’s  communication.  Both  the 
listeners  eagerly  caught  each  syllable  that  fell  from  the 
quivering  lips  of  the  maiden,  for  she  trembled,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  a  struggle  to  be  calm  that  was  almost  superhuman,  and 
when  her  voice  ceased  they  gazed  at  each  other  like  men 
suddenly  astounded  by  some  dire  and  totally  unexpected 
calamity.  The  baron,  in  truth,  could  scarcely  believe  that 
he  had  not  been  deceived  by  a  defective  hearing,  for  age 
had  begun  a  little  to  impair  that  useful  faculty,  while  his 
friend  admitted  the  words  as  one  receives  impressions  of  the 
most  revolting  and  disheartening  nature. 

“  This  is  a  damnable  and  fearful  fact !  ”  muttered  the 
latter,  when  Adelheid  had  altogether  ceased  to  speak. 

“  Did  she  say  that  Sigismund  is  the  son  of  Balthazar,  the 
public  headsman  of  the  canton  !  ”  asked  the  father  of  his 
friend,  in  the  way  that  one  reluctantly  assures  himself  of 
some  half-comprehended  and  unwelcome  truth,  —  “  of 
Balthazar  —  of  that  family  accursed  !  ” 

“  Such  is  the  parentage  it  has  been  the  will  of  God  to 
bestow  on  the  preserver  of  our  lives,”  meekly  answered 
Adelheid. 

“  Hath  the  villain  dared  to  steal  into  my  family-circle, 


180 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


concealing  this  disgusting  and  disgraceful  fact !  Hath  he 
endeavored  to  engraft  the  impurity  of  his  source  on  the 
untarnished  stock  of  a  noble  and  ancient  family  !  There 
is  something  exceeding  mere  duplicity  in  this,  Signor 
Grimaldi.  There  is  a  dark  and  meaning  crime.” 

“  There  is  that  which  much  exceeds  our  means  of  reme¬ 
dying,  good  Melchior.  But  let  us  not  rashly  blame  the 
boy,  whose  birth  is  rather  to  be  imputed  to  him  as  a  mis¬ 
fortune  than  as  a  crime.  If  he  were  a  thousand  Baltha¬ 
zars,  he  has  saved  all  our  lives  !  ” 

“  Thou  sayest  true  —  thou  sayest  no  more  than  the  truth. 
Thou  wert  always  of  a  more  reasonable  brain  than  I,  though 
thy  more  southern  origin  would  seem  to  contradict  it. 
Here,  then,  are  all  our  fine  fancies  and  liberal  schemes  of 
generosity  blown  to  the  winds  !  ” 

“  That  is  not  so  evident,”  returned  the  Genoese,  who  had 
not  failed  the  while  to  study  the  countenance  of  Adelheid, 
as  if  he  would  fully  ascertain  her  secret  wishes.  “  There 
has  been  much  discourse,  fair  Adelheid,  between  thee  and 
the  youth  on  this  matter  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  there  has.  I  was  about  to  communicate  the 
intentions  of  my  father ;  for  the  circumstances  in  which  we 
were  placed,  the  weight  of  our  many  obligations,  the  usual 
distance  which  rank  interposes  between  the  noble  and  the 
simply  born,  perhaps  justifies  this  boldness  in  a  maiden,” 
she  added,  though  the  tell-tale  blood  revealed  her  shame. 
“  I  was  making  Sigismund  acquainted  with  my  father’s 
wishes,  when  he  met  my  confidence  by  the  avowal  which  I 
have  just  related.” 

“  He  deems  his  birth  ”  — 

“  An  insuperable  barrier  to  the  connection.  Sigismund 
Steinbach,  though  so  little  favored  in  the  accident  of  his 
origin,  is  not  a  beggar  to  sue  for  that  which  his  own  gen¬ 
erous  feelings  would  condemn.” 

“  And  thou  ?  ” 

Adelheid  lowered  her  eyes,  and  seemed  to  reflect  on  the 
nature  of  her  answer. 

“  Thou  wilt  pardon  this  curiosity,  which  may  wear  too 
much  the  aspect  of  unwarrantable  meddling,  but  my  age 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


181 


and  ancient  friendship,  the  recent  occurrences,  and  a  grow¬ 
ing  love  for  all  that  concerns  thee,  must  plead  my  excuses. 
Unless  we  know  thy  wishes,  daughter,  neither  Melchior  nor 
I  can  act  as  we  might  wish.” 

Adelheid  was  long  and  thoughtfully  silent.  Though 
every  sentiment  of  her  heart,  and  all  that  inclination  which 
is  the  offspring  of  the  warm  and  poetical  illusions  of  love, 
tempted  her  to  declare  a  readiness  to  sacrifice  every  other 
consideration  to  the  engrossing  and  pure  affections  of 
woman,  opinion  with  its  iron  gripe  still  held  her  in  suspense 
on  the  propriety  of  braving  the  prejudices  of  the  world. 
The  timidity  of  that  sex  which,  however  ready  to  make  an 
offering  of  its  most  cherished  privileges  on  the  shrine  of 
connubial  tenderness,  shrinks  with  a  keen  sensitiveness  from 
the  appearance  of  a  forward  devotion  to  the  other,  had  its 
weight  also,  nor  could  a  child  so  pious  altogether  forget  the 
effect  her  decision  might  have  on  the  future  happiness  of 
her  sole  surviving  parent. 

The  Genoese  understood  the  struggle,  though  he  foresaw 
its  termination,  and  he  resumed  the  discourse  himself,  partly 
with  the  kind  wish  to  give  the  maiden  time  to  reflect 
maturely  before  she  answered,  and  partly  following  a  very 
natural  train  of  his  own  thoughts. 

“  There  is  naught  sure  in  this  fickle  state  of  being,”  he 
continued.  “  Neither  the  throne,  nor  riches,  nor  health, 
nor  even  the  sacred  affections,  are  secure  against  change. 
Well  may  we  pause  then  and  weigh  every  chance  of  happi¬ 
ness,  ere  we  take  the  last  and  final  step  in  any  great  or 
novel  measure.  Thou  knowest  the  hopes  with  which  I 
entered  life,  Melchior,  and  the  chilling  disappointments  with 
which  my  career  is  likely  to  close.  No  youth  was  born  to 
fairer  hopes,  nor  did  Italy  know  one  more  joyous  than  my¬ 
self,  the  morning  I  received  the  hand  of  Angiolina ;  and 
yet  two  short  years  saw  all  those  hopes  withered,  this  joy¬ 
ousness  gone,  and  a  cloud  thrown  across  my  prospects  which 
has  never  disappeared.  A  widowed  husband,  a  childless 
father,  may  not  prove  a  bad  counselor,  my  friend,  in  a 
moment  when  there  is  so  much  doubt  besetting  thee  and 
thine.” 


182 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Thy  mind  naturally  returns  to  thine  own  unhappy 
child,  poor  Gaetano,  when  there  is  so  much  question  of  the 
fortunes  of  mine.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  turned  his  look  on  his  friend,  but 
the  gleam  of  anguish,  which  was  wont  to  pass  athwart  his 
countenance  when  his  mind  was  drawn  powerfully  towards 
that  painful  subject,  betrayed  that  he  was  not  just  then  able 
to  reply. 

“We  see  in  all  these  events,”  continued  the  Genoese,  as 
if  too  full  of  his  subject  to  restrain  his  words,  “  the  un¬ 
searchable  designs  of  Providence.  Here  is  a  youth  that  is 
all  that  a  father  could  desire ;  worthy  in  every  sense  to  be 
the  depository  of  a  beloved  and  only  daughter’s  weal ; 
manly,  brave,  virtuous,  and  noble  in  all  but  the  chances  of 
blood,  and  yet  so  accursed  by  the  world’s  opinion  that  we 
might  scarce  venture  to  name  him  as  the  associate  of  an 
idle  hour,  were  the  fact  known  that  he  is  the  man  he  has 
declared  himself  to  be  !  ” 

“  You  put  the  matter  in  strong  language,  Signor  Gri¬ 
maldi,”  said  Adelheid,  starting. 

“  A  youth  of  a  form  so  commanding  that  a  king  might 
exult  at  the  prospect  of  his  crown  descending  on  such  a 
head ;  of  a  perfection  of  strength  and  masculine  excellence 
that  will  almost  justify  the  dangerous  exultation  of  health 
and  vigor  ;  of  a  reason  that  is  riper  than  his  years  ;  of  a 
virtue  of  proof;  of  all  qualities  that  we  respect,  and  which 
come  of  study  and  not  of  accident,  and  yet  a  youth  con¬ 
demned  of  men  to  live  under  the  reproach  of  their  hatred 
and  contempt,  or  to  conceal  forever  the  name  of  the  mother 
that  bore  him !  Compare  this  Sigismund  with  others  that 
may  be  named ;  with  the  high-born  and  pampered  heir  of 
some  illustrious  house,  who  riots  in  men’s  respect  while  he 
shocks  men’s  morals ;  who  presumes  on  privilege  to  trifle 
with  the  sacred  and  the  just ;  who  lives  for  self,  and  that  in 
base  enjoyments  ;  who  is  fitter  to  be  the  lunatic’s  compan¬ 
ion  than  any  other’s,  though  destined  to  rule  in  the  council ; 
who  is  the  type  of  the  wicked,  though  called  to  preside 
over  the  virtuous  ;  who  cannot  be  esteemed,  though  entitled 
to  be  honored  ;  and  let  us  ask  why  this  is  so,  what  is  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


183 


wisdom  which  hath  drawn  differences  so  arbitrary,  and 
which,  while  proclaiming  the  necessity  of  justice,  so  openly, 
so  wantonly,  and  so  ingeniously  sets  its  plainest  dictates  at 
defiance  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  it  should  not  be  thus  —  God  never  intended  it 
should  be  so  !  ” 

“  While  every  principle  would  seem  to  say  that  each 
must  stand  or  fall  by  his  own  good  or  evil  deeds,  that  men 
are  to  be  honored  as  they  merit,  every  device  of  human 
institutions  is  exerted  to  achieve  the  opposite.  This  is 
exalted,  because  his  ancestry  is  noble  ;  that  condemned,  for 
no  better  reason  than  that  he  is  born  vile.  Melchior  ! 
Melchior !  our  reason  is  unhinged  by  subtleties,  and  our 
boasted  philosophy  and  right  are  no  more  than  unblushing 
mockeries,  at  which  the  very  devils  laugh  !  ” 

“  And  yet  the  commandments  of  God  tell  us,  Gaetano, 
that  the  sins  of  the  father  shall  be  visited  on  the  descendants 
from  generation  to  generation.  You  of  Rome  pay  not  this 
close  attention,  perhaps,  to  sacred  writ,  but  I  have  heard  it 
said  that  we  have  not  in  Berne  a  law  for  which  good  war¬ 
ranty  cannot  be  found  in  the  holy  volume  itself.” 

“  Aye,  there  are  sophists  to  prove  all  that  they  wish. 
The  crimes  and  follies  of  the  ancestor  leave  their  physical, 
or  even  their  moral  taint,  on  the  child,  beyond  a  question, 
good  Melchior  ;  but  is  not  this  sufficient  ?  Are  we  blas¬ 
phemously,  even  impiously,  to  pretend  that  God  has  not 
sufficiently  provided  for  the  punishment  of  the  breaches  of 
his  wise  ordinances,  that  we  must  come  forward  to  second 
them  by  arbitrary  and  heartless  rules  of  our  own  ?  What 
crime  is  imputable  to  the  family  of  this  youth  beyond  that 
of  poverty,  which  probably  drove  the  first  of  his  race  to  the 
execution  of  their  revolting  office  ?  There  is  little  in  the 
mien  or  the  morals  of  Sigismund  to  denote  the  visitations 
of  Heaven’s  wise  decrees,  but  there  is  everything  in  his 
present  situation  to  proclaim  the  injustice  of  man.” 

“  And  dost  thou,  Gaetano  Grimaldi,  the  ally  of  so  many 
ancient  and  illustrious  houses — thou,  Gaetano  Grimaldi, 
the  honored  of  Genoa  —  dost  thou  counsel  me  to  give  my 
only  child,  the  heiress  of  my  lands  and  name,  to  the  son  of 


184 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


the  public  executioner,  nay,  to  the  very  heritor  of  his  dis¬ 
gusting  duties  !  ” 

“  There  thou  hast  me  on  the  hip,  Melchior  ;  the  question 
is  put  strongly,  and  needs  reflection  for  an  answer.  Oh  ! 
why  is  this  Balthazar  so  rich  in  offspring,  and  I  so  poor  ? 
But  we  will  not  press  the  matter ;  it  is  an  affair  of  many 
sides,  and  should  be  judged  by  us  as  men,  as  well  as  nobles. 
Daughter,  thou  hast  just  learned,  by  the  words  of  thy 
father,  that  I  am  against  thee,  by  position  and  heritage,  for, 
while  I  condemn  the  principle  of  this  wrong,  I  cannot  over¬ 
look  its  effects,  and  never  before  did  a  case  of  as  tangled 
difficulty,  one  in  which  right  was  so  palpably  opposed  by 
opinion,  present  itself  for  my  judgment.  Leave  us,  that  we 
may  command  ourselves  ;  the  required  decision  exacts  much 
care,  and  greater  mastery  of  ourselves  than  I  can  exercise, 
with  that  sweet,  pale  face  of  thine  appealing  so  eloquently 
to  my  heart  in  behalf  of  the  noble  boy.” 

Adelheid  arose,  and  first  offering  her  marble-like  brow 
to  the  salutations  of  both  her  parents,  for  the  ancient  friend¬ 
ship  and  strong  sympathies  of  the  Genoese  gave  him  a 
claim  to  this  appellation  in  her  affections  at  least,  she 
silently  withdrew.  As  to  the  conversation  which  ensued 
between  the  old  nobles,  we  momentarily  drop  the  curtain, 
to  proceed  to  other  incidents  of  our  narrative.  It  may, 
however,  be  generally  observed  that  the  day  passed  quietly 
away,  without  the  occurrence  of  any  event  which  it  is  nec¬ 
essary  to  relate,  all  in  the  chateau,  with  the  exception  of 
the  travellers,  being  principally  occupied  by  the  approach¬ 
ing  festivities.  The  Signor  Grimaldi  sought  an  occasion  to 
have  a  long  and  a  confidential  communication  with  Sigis- 
mund,  who,  on  his  part,  carefully  avoided  being  seen  again 
by  her  who  had  so  great  an  influence  on  his  feelings,  until 
both  had  time  to  recover  their  self-command. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


185 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Hold,  hurt  him  not,  for  God’s  sake  —  he  is  mad. 

Comedy  of  Errors. 

.he  festivals  of  Bacchus  are  supposed  to  have  been  the 
models  of  those  long-continued  festivities,  which  are  still 
known  in  Switzerland  by  the  name  of  the  Abbaye  des 
Vignerons. 

This  fete  was  originally  of  a  simple  and  rustic  character, 
being  far  from  possessing  the  labored  ceremonies  and  clas¬ 
sical  allegories  of  a  later  day,  the  severity  of  monkish  disci¬ 
pline  most  probably  prohibiting  the  introduction  of  allusions 
to  the  heathen  mythology,  as  was  afterwards  practiced ; 
for  certain  religious  communities  that  were  the  proprietors 
of  large  vineyards  in  that  vicinity  appear  to  have  been  the 
first  known  patrons  of  the  custom.  So  long  as  a  severe 
simplicity  reigned  in  the  festivities,  they  were  annually  ob¬ 
served  ;  but  when  heavier  expenses  and  greater  prepara¬ 
tions  became  necessary,  longer  intervals  succeeded ;  the 
Abbaye  at  first  causing  its  festival  to  become  triennial,  and 
subsequently  extending  the  period  of  vacation  to  six  years. 
As  greater  time  was  obtained  for  the  collection  of  means 
and  inclination,  the  festival  gained  in  eclat,  until  it  came  at 
length  to  be  a  species  of  jubilee,  to  which  the  idle,  the  curi¬ 
ous,  and  the  observant  of  all  the  adjacent  territories  were 
accustomed  to  resort  in  crowds.  The  town  of  Vevey 
profited  by  the  circumstance,  the  usual  motive  of  interest 
being  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  usage,  and,  down  to  the 
epoch  of  the  great  European  revolution,  there  would  seem 
to  have  been  an  unbroken  succession  of  the  fetes.  The  oc¬ 
casion  to  which  there  has  so  often  been  allusion,  was  one 
•  of  the  regular  and  long-expected  festivals ;  and  as  report 
had  spoken  largely  of  the  preparations,  the  attendance  was 
even  more  numerous  than  usual. 


186 


TIIE  HEADSMAN. 


Early  on  the  morning  of  the  second  day  after  the  arrival 
of  our  travellers  at  the  neighboring  castle  of  Blonay,  a 
body  of  men,  dressed  in  the  guise  of  halberdiers,  a  species 
of  troops  then  known  in  most  of  the  courts  of  Europe, 
marched  into  the  great  square  of  Vevey,  taking  possession 
of  all  its  centre,  and  posting  its  sentries  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  interdict  the  usual  passages  of  the  place.  This  was 
the  preliminary  step  in  the  coming  festivities  ;  for  this  was 
Mie  spot  chosen  for  the  scene  of  most  of  the  ceremonies  of 
ihe  day.  The  curious  were  not  long  behind  the  guards, 
ind  by  the  time  the  sun  had  fairly  arisen  above  the  hills  of 
Fribourg,  some  thousands  of  spectators  were  pressing  in 
and  about  the  avenues  of  the  square,  and  boats  from  the 
opposite  shores  of  Savoy  were  arriving  at  each  instant, 
crowded  to  the  water’s  edge  with  peasants  and  their  families. 

Near  the  upper  end  of  the  square,  capacious  scaffoldings 
had  been  erected  to  contain  those  who  were  privileged  by 
rank,  or  those  who  were  able  to  buy  honors  with  the  vul¬ 
gar  medium ;  while  humbler  preparations  for  the  less  fortu¬ 
nate  completed  the  three  sides  of  a  space  that  was  in  the 
form  of  a  parallelogram,  and  which  was  intended  to  receive 
the  actors  in  the  coming  scene.  The  side  next  the  water 
was  unoccupied,  though  a  forest  of  latine  spars,  and  a  plat¬ 
form  of  decks,  more  than  supplied  the  deficiency  of  scaf¬ 
folding  and  room.  Music  was  heard,  from  time  to  time, 
intermingled  or  relieved  by  those  wild  Alpine  cries  which 
characterize  the  songs  of  the  mountaineers.  The  authorities 
of  the  town  were  early  afoot,  and  as  is  customary  with  the 
important  agents  of  small  concerns,  they  were  exercising 
their  municipal  functions  with  a  bustle,  which  of  itself  con¬ 
tained  reasonable  evidence  that  they  were  of  no  great  mo¬ 
ment,  and  a  gravity  of  mien  with  which  the  chiefs  of  a  State 
might  have  believed  it  possible  to  dispense. 

The  estrade,  or  stage,  erected  for  the  superior  class  of 
spectators,  was  decorated  with  flags,  and  a  portion  near  its 
centre  had  a  fair  display  of  tapestry  and  silken  hangings. 
The  chateau-looking  edifice  near  the  bottom  of  the  square, 
and  whose  windows,  according  to  a  common  Swiss  and  Ger¬ 
man  usage,  showed  the  intermingled  stripes  that  denoted  it 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


187 


to  be  public  property,  were  also  gay  in  colors,  for  the  en¬ 
sign  of  the  republic  floated  over  its  pointed  roofs,  and  rich 
silks  waved  against  the  walls.  This  was  the  official  resi¬ 
dence  of  Peter  Hofmeister,  the  functionary  whom  we  have 
already  introduced  to  the  reader. 

An  hour  later,  a  shot  gave  the  signal  for  the  various 
troupes  to  appear,  and  soon  after,  parties  of  the  different 
actors  arrived  in  the  square.  As  the  little  procession  ap¬ 
proached  to  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  or  horn,  curiosity 
became  more  active,  and  the  populace  was  permitted  to  cir¬ 
culate  in  those  portions  of  the  square  that  were  not  imme¬ 
diately  required  for  other  purposes.  About  this  time,  a 
solitary  individual  appeared  on  the  stage.  He  seemed  to 
enjoy  peculiar  privileges,  not  only  from  his  situation,  but  by 
the  loud  salutations  and  noisy  welcomes  with  which  he  was 
greeted  from  the  crowd  below.  It  was  the  good  monk  of 
St.  Bernard,  who,  with  a  bare  head  and  a  joyous,  contented 
face,  answered  to  the  several  calls  of  the  peasants,  most  of 
whom  had  either  bestowed  hospitality  on  the  worthy 
Augustine,  in  his  many  journeyings  among  the  charitable 
of  the  lower  world,  or  had  received  it  at  his  hands  in  their 
frequent  passages  of  the  mountain.  These  recognitions 
and  greetings  spoke  well  for  humanity  ;  for  in  every  in¬ 
stance  they  wore  the  air  of  cordial  good-will,  and  a  readi¬ 
ness  to  do  honor  to  the  benevolent  character  of  the  relig¬ 
ious  community  that  was  represented  in  the  person  of  its 
clavier  or  steward. 

“  Good  luck  to  thee,  Father  Xavier,  and  a  rich  quete ,” 
cried  a  burly  peasant ;  “  thou  hast  of  late  unkindly  forgot¬ 
ten  Benoit  Emery  and  his.  When  did  a  clavier  of  St. 
Bernard  ever  knock  at  my  door,  and  go  away  with  an 
empty  hand  ?  We  look  for  thee,  reverend  monk,  with  thy 
vessel,  to-morrow  ;  for  the  summer  has  been  hot,  the  grapes 
are  rich,  and  the  wine  is  beginning  to  run  freely  in  our 
tubs.  Thou  shalt  dip  without  any  to  look  at  thee,  and  take 
it  of  which  color  thou  wilt,  thou  shalt  take  it  with  a  wel¬ 
come.” 

“  Thanks,  thanks,  generous  Benoit ;  St.  Augustine  will 
remember  the  favor,  and  thy  fruitful  vines  will  be  none  the 


188 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


poorer  for  thy  generosity.  We  ask  only  that  we  may  give, 
and  on  none  do  we  bestow  more  willingly  than  on  the  hon¬ 
est  Vaudois,  whom  may  the  saints  keep  in  mind  for  their 
kindness  and  good-will/’ 

“  Nay,  I  will  have  none  of  thy  saints ;  thou  knowest  we 
are  St.  Calvin’s  men  in  Yaud,  if  there  must  be  any  canon¬ 
ized.  But  what  is  it  to  us  that  thou  hearest  mass,  while 
we  love  the  simple  worship  !  Are  we  not  equally  men  ? 
Does  not  the  frost  nip  the  members  of  Catholic  and  Prot¬ 
estant  the  same  ?  or  does  the  avalanche  respect  one  more 
than  the  other  ?  I  never  knew  thee  or  any  of  thy  convent 
question  the  frozen  traveller  of  his  faith,  but  all  are  fed, 
and  warmed,  and  at  need  administered  to  from  the  phar¬ 
macy  with  brotherly  care,  and  as  Christians  merit.  What¬ 
ever  thou  mavest  think  of  the  state  of  our  souls,  thou  on 
thy  mountain  there,  no  one  will  deny  thy  tender  services 
to  our  bodies.  Say  I  well,  neighbors,  or  is  this  only  the 
foolish  gossip  of  old  Benoit,  who  has  crossed  the  Col  so 
often,  that  he  has  forgotten  that  our  churches  have  quar¬ 
reled,  and  that  the  learned  will  have  us  go  to  heaven  by 
different  roads  ?  ” 

A  general  movement  among  the  people,  and  a  tossing  of 
hands,  appeared  in  support  of  the  truth  and  popularity  of 
the  hpnest  peasant’s  sentiments,  for  in  that  age  the  hospice 
of  St.  Bernard,  more  exclusively  a  refuge  for  the  real  and 
poor  traveller  than  at  present,  enjoyed  a  merited  reputation 
in  all  the  country  round. 

‘‘  Thou  shalt  always  be  welcome  on  the  pass,  thou  and 
thy  friends,  and  all  others  in  the  shape  of  men,  without 
other  interference  in  thy  opinions  than  secret  prayers,”  re¬ 
turned  the  good-humored  and  happy-looking  clavier,  whose 
round,  contented  face  shone  partly  in  habitual  joy,  partly  in 
gratification  at  this  public  testimonial  in  favor  of  the  brother¬ 
hood,  and  a  little  in  satisfaction  perhaps  at  the  promise  of 
an  ample  addition  to  the  convent’s  stores  ;  for  the  commu¬ 
nity  of  St.  Bernard,  while  so  much  was  going  out,  had  a 
natural  and  justifiable  desire  to  see  some  return  for  its  in¬ 
cessant  and  unwearied  liberality.  “  Thou  wilt  not  deny  us 
the  happiness  of  praying  for  those  we  love,  though  it  hap- 


THE  HEADSMAN.  189 

pen  to  be  in  a  manner  different  from  that  in  which  they 
ask  blessings  for  themselves.” 

“  Have  it  thine  own  way,  good  canon  ;  I  am  none  of 
those  who  are  ready  to  refuse  a  favor  because  it  savors  of 
Rome.  But  what  has  become  of  our  friend  Uberto  ?  He 
rarely  comes  into  the  valleys,  that  we  are  not  anxious  to 
see  his  glossy  coat.” 

The  Augustine  gave  the  customary  call,  and  the  mastiff 
mounted  the  stage  with  a  grave,  deliberate  step,  as  if  con¬ 
scious  of  the  dignity  and  usefulness  of  the  life  he  led,  and 
like  a  dog  accustomed  to  the  friendly  notice  of  man.  The 
appearance  of  this  well-known  and  celebrated  brute  caused 
another  stir  in  the  throng,  many  pressing  upon  the  guards 
to  get  a  nearer  view,  and  a  few  casting  fragments  of  food 
from  their  wallets,  as  tokens  of  gratitude  and  regard.  In 
the  midst  of  this  little  by-play  of  good  feeling,  a  ’dark, 
shaggy  animal  leaped  upon  the  scaffolding,  and  very  coolly 
commenced,  with  an  activity  that  denoted  the  influence  of 
the  keen  mountain  air  on  his  appetite,  picking  up  the  dif¬ 
ferent  particles  of  meat  that  had  as  yet  escaped  the  eye  of 
Uberto.  The  intruder  was  received  much  in  the  manner 
that  an  unpopular  or  an  offending  actor  is  made  to  undergo 
the  hostilities  of  pit  and  galleries,  to  revenge  some  slight 
or  neglect  for  which  he  has  forgotten  or  refused  to  atone. 
In  other  words,  he  was  incontinently  and  mercilessly  pelted 
with  such  missiles  as  first  presented  themselves.  The  un¬ 
known  animal,  which  the  reader,  however,  will  not  be  slow 
in  recognizing  to  be  the  water-dog  of  II  Maledetto,  received 
these  unusual  visitations  with  some  surprise,  and  rather 
awkwardly  ;  for,  in  his  proper  sphere,  Nettuno  had  been 
quite  as  much  accustomed  to  meet  with  demonstrations  of 
friendship  from  the  race  he  so  faithfully  served,  as  any  of 
the  far-famed  and  petted  mastiffs  of  the  convent.  After 
dodging  sundry  stones  and  clubs,  as  well  as  a  pretty  close 
attention  to  the  principal  matter  in  hand  would  allow,  and 
with  a  dexterity  that  did  equal  credit  to  his  coolness  and 
muscle,  a  missile  of  formidable  weight  took  the  unfortunate 
follower  of  Maso  in  the  side,  and  sent  him  howling  from 
the  stage.  At  the  next  instant,  his  master  was  at  the 


190 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


throat  of  the  offender,  throttling  him  till  he  was  black  in 
the  face. 

The  unlucky  stone  had  come  from  Conrad.  Forgetful 
of  his  assumed  character,  he  had  joined  in  the  hue  and  cry 
against  a  dos;  whose  character  and  service  should  have  been 
sufficiently  known  to  him,  at  least,  to  prove  his  protection, 
and  had  given  the  cruelest  blow  of  all.  It  has  been  al¬ 
ready  seen  that  there  was  little  friendship  between  Maso 
and  the  pilgrim,  for  the  former  appeared  to  have  an  in¬ 
stinctive  dislike  of  the  latter’s  calling,  and  this  little  occur¬ 
rence  was  not  of  a  character  likely  to  restore  the  peace  be¬ 
tween  them. 

“  Thou,  too !  ”  cried  the  Italian,  whose  blood  had 
mounted  at  the  first  attack  on  his  faithful  follower,  and 
which  fairly  boiled  when  he  witnessed  the  cowardly  and 
wanton  conduct  of  this  new  assailant ;  “  art  not  satisfied 
with  feigning  prayers  and  godliness  with  the  credulous, 
but  thou  must  even  feign  enmity  to  my  dog,  because  it  is 
the  fashion  to  praise  the  cur  of  St.  Bernard  at  the  ex¬ 
pense  of  all  other  brutes !  Reptile  !  dost  not  dread  the 
arm  of  an  honest  man,  when  raised  against  thee  in  just 
anger  ? ” 

“  Friends  —  Vevaisans  —  honorable  citizens  !  ”  gasped  the 
pilgrim,  as  the  gripe  of  Maso  permitted  breath.  “  I  am 
Conrad,  a  poor,  miserable,  repentant  pilgrim  —  will  ye  see 
me  murdered  for  a  brute  ?  ” 

Such  a  contest  could  not  continue  long  in  such  a  place. 
At  first  the  pressure  of  the  curious,  and  the  great  density 
of  the  crowd,  rather  favored  the  attack  of  the  mariner  ;  but 
in  the  end  they  proved  his  enemies,  by  preventing  the  pos¬ 
sibility  of  escaping  from  those  who  were  especially  charged 
with  the  care  of  the  public  peace.  Luckily  for  Conrad,  for 
passion  had  fairly  blinded  Maso  to  the  consequences  of  his 
fury,  the  halberdiers  soon  forced  their  way  into  the  centre 
of  the  living  mass,  and  they  succeeded  in  seasonably  rescu¬ 
ing  him  from  the  deadly  gripe  of  his  assailant.  II  Maledetto 
trembled  with  the  reaction  of  this  hot  sally,  the  moment  his 
gripe  was  forcibly  released,  and  he  would  have  disappeared 
as  soon  as  possible,  had  it  been  the  pleasure  of  those  into 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


191 


whose  hands  he  had  fallen  to  permit  so  politic  a  step.  But 
now  commenced  the  war  of  words,  and  the  clamor  of  voices, 
which  usually  succeed,  as  well  as  precede,  all  contests  of  a 
popular  nature.  The  officer  in  charge  of  this  portion  of  the 
square  questioned ;  twenty  answered  in  a  breath,  not  only 
drowning  each  other’s  voices,  but  effectually  contradicting 
all  that  was  said  in  the  way  of  explanation.  One  maintained 
that  Conrad  had  not  been  content  with  attacking  Maso’s 
dog,  but  that  he  had  followed  up  the  blow  by  offering  a 
personal  indignity  to  the  master  himself ;  this  was  the  pub¬ 
lican  in  whose  house  the  mariner  had  taken  up  his  abode, 
and  in  which  he  had  been  sufficiently  liberal  in  his  expendi¬ 
ture  fairly  to  entitle  him  to  the  hospitable  support  of  its 
landlord.  Another  professed  his  readiness  to  swear  that 
the  dog  was  the  property  of  the  pilgrim,  being  accustomed 
to  carry  his  wallet,  and  that  Maso,  owing  to  an  ancient 
grudge  against  both  master  and  beast,  had  hurled  the  stone 
which  sent  the  animal  away  howling,  and  had  resented  a 
mild  remonstrance  of  its  owner  in  the  extraordinary  manner 
that  all  had  seen.  This  witness  was  the  Neapolitan  juggler, 
Pippo,  who  had  much  attached  himself  to  the  person  of 
Conrad  since  the  adventure  of  the  bark,  and  who  was  both 
ready  and  willing  to  affirm  anything  in  behalf  of  a  friend 
who  had  so  evident  need  of  his  testimony,  if  it  were  only  on 
the  score  of  boon-companionship.  A  third  declared  that  the 
dog  belonged  truly  to  the  Italian,  that  the  stone  had  been 
really  hurled  by  one  who  stood  near  the  pilgrim,  who  had 
been  wrongfully  accused  of  the  offense  by  Maso  ;  that  the 
latter  had  made  his  attack  under  a  false  impression,  and 
richly  merited  punishment,  for  the  unceremonious  manner  in 
which  he  had  stopped  Conrad’s  breath.  This  witness  was 
perfectly  honest,  but  of  a  vulgar  and  credulous  mind.  He 
attributed  the  original  offense  to  one  near  that  happened  to 
have  a  bad  name,  and  who  was  very  liable  to  father  every 
sin  that,  by  possibility,  could  be  laid  at  his  door,  as  well  as 
some  that  could  not.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had  also  been 
duped  that  morning  by  the  pilgrim’s  superabundant  profes¬ 
sions  of  religious  zeal,  a  circumstance  that  of  itself  would 
have  prevented  him  from  detecting  Conrad’s  arm  in  the  air 


192 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


as  it  cast  the  stone,  and  which  served  greatly  to  increase 
his  certainty  that  the  first  offense  came  from  the  luckless 
wight  just  alluded  to  ;  since  they  who  discriminate  under 
general  convictions  and  popular  prejudices,  usually  heap  all 
the  odium  they  pertinaciously  withhold  from  the  lucky  and 
favored,  on  those  who  seem  fated  by  general  consent  to  be 
the  common  target  of  the  world’s  darts. 

The  officer,  by  the  time  he  had  deliberately  heard  the 
three  principal  witnesses,  together  with  the  confounding 
explanations  of  those  who  professed  to  be  only  half-informed 
in  the  matter,  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  decide  which  had  been 
right  and  which  wrong.  He  came,  therefore,  to  the  safe 
conclusion  to  send  all  the  parties  to  the  guard-house,  includ¬ 
ing  the  witnesses,  being  quite  sure  that  he  had  hit  on  an 
effectual  method  of  visiting  the  true  criminal  with  punish¬ 
ment,  and  of  admonishing  all  those  who  gave  evidence  in 
future  to  have  a  care  of  the  manner  in  which  they  contra¬ 
dicted  each  other.  Just  as  this  equitable  decision  was  pro¬ 
nounced,  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  proclaimed  the  approach 
of  a  division  of  the  principal  mummers,  if  so  irreverent  a 
term  can  be  applied  to  men  engaged  in  a  festival  as  justly 
renowned  as  that  of  the  vine-dressers.  This  announcement 
greatly  quickened  the  steps  of  Justice,  for  they  who  were 
charged  with  the  execution  of  her  decrees  felt  the  necessity 
of  being  prompt,  under  the  penalty  of  losing  an  interesting 
portion  of  the  spectacle.  Actuated  by  this  new  impulse, 
which,  if  not  as  respectable,  was  quite  as  strong,  as  the 
desire  to  do  right,  the  disturbers  of  the  peace,  even  to  those 
who  had  shown  a  quarrelsome  temper  by  telling  stories  that 
gave  each  other  the  lie,  were  hurried  away  in  a  body,  and 
the  public  was  left  in  the  enjoyment  of  that  tranquillity 
which,  in  these  perilous  times  of  revolution  and  changes,  is 
thought  to  be  so  necessary  to  its  dignity,  so  especially  favor¬ 
able  to  commerce,  and  so  grateful  to  those  whose  duty  it  is 
to  preserve  the  public  peace  with  as  little  inconvenience  to 
themselves  as  possible. 

A  blast  of  the  trumpet  was  the  signal  for  a  more  general 
movement,  for  it  announced  the  commencement  of  the  cere¬ 
monies.  As  it  will  be  presently  necessary  to  speak  of  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


193 


different  personages  who  were  represented  on  this  joyous 
occasion,  we  shall  only  say  here,  that  group  after  group  of 
the  actors  came  into  the  square,,  each  party  marching  to  the 
sound  of  music  from  its  particular  point  of  rendezvous  to 
the  common  centre.  The  stage  now  began  to  fill  with  the 
privileged,  among  whom  were  many  of  the  high  aristocracy 
of  the  ruling  canton,  most  of  its  officials,  who  were  too  dig¬ 
nified  to  be  more  than  complacent  spectators  of  revels  like 
these,  many  nobles  of  mark  from  France  and  Italy,  a  few 
travellers  from  England  —  for  in  that  age  England  was 
deemed  a  distant  country  and  sent  forth  but  a  few  of  her 
elite  to  represent  her  on  such  occasions  —  most  of  those 
from  the  adjoining  territories  who  could  afford  the  time  and 
cost,  and  who  by  rank  or  character  were  entitled  to  the  dis¬ 
tinction,  and  the  wives  and  families  of  the  local  officers  who 
happened  to  be  engaged  as  actors  in  the  representation. 
By  the  time  the  different  parts  of  the  principal  procession 
were  assembled  in  the  square,  all  the  seats  of  the  estrade 
were  crowded,  with  the  exception  of  those  reserved  for  the 
bailiff  and  his  immediate  friends. 


194 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

So  once  were  ranged  the  sons  of  ancient  Rome, 

A  noble  show !  While  Roscius  trod  the  stage. 

COWPER. 

The  day  was  not  yet  far  advanced,  when  all  the  compo¬ 
nent  parts  of  the  grand  procession  had  arrived  in  the  square. 
Shortly  after,  a  flourish  of  clarions  gave  notice  of  the  ap¬ 
proach  of  the  authorities.  First  came  the  bailiff,  filled  with 
the  dignity  of  station,  and  watching,  with  a  vigilant  but 
covert  eye,  every  indication  of  feeling  that  might  prove  of 
interest  to  his  employers,  even  while  he  most  affected 
sympathy  with  the  occasion  and  self-abandonment  to  the 
follies  of  the  hour  ;  for  Peter  Hofmeister  owed  his  long- 
established  favor  with  the  burgerschaft  more  to  a  never- 
slumbering  regard  to  its  exclusive  interests  and  its  un¬ 
divided  supremacy,  than  to  any  particular  skill  in  the  art 
of  rendering  men  comfortable  and  happy.  Next  to  the 
worthy  bailiff  —  for  apart  from  an  indomitable  resolution  to 
maintain  the  authority  of  his  masters,  for  good  or  for  evil, 
the  Herr  Hofmeister  merited  the  appellation  of  a  worthy 
man  —  came  Roger  de  Blonay  and  his  guest  the  Baron  de 
Willading,  marching  pari  passu  at  the  side  of  the  represent¬ 
ative  of  Berne  himself.  There  might  have  been  some 
question  how  far  the  bailiff  was  satisfied  with  this  arrange¬ 
ment  of  the  difficult  point  of  etiquette,  for  he  issued  from 
his  own  gate  with  a  sort  of  sidelong  movement  that  kept 
him  nearly  confronted  to  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  though  it 
left  him  the  means  of  choosing  his  path  and  of  observing 
the  aspect  of  things  in  the  crowd.  At  any  rate,  the 
Genoese,  though  apparently  occupying  a  secondary  station, 
had  no  grounds  to  complain  of  indifference  to  his  presence. 
Most  of  the  observances  and  not  a  few  of  the  sallies  of 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


195 


honest  Peter,  who  had  some  local  reputation  as  a  joker  and 
a  bel  esprit ,  as  is  apt  to  be  the  case  with  your  municipal 
magistrate,  more  especially  when  he  holds  his  authority  in¬ 
dependently  of  the  community  with  whom  he  associates,  and 
perhaps  as  little  likely  to  be  the  fact  when  he  depends  on 
popular  favor  for  his  rank,  were  addressed  to  the  Signor 
Grimaldi.  Most  of  these  good  things  were  returned  in  kind, 
the  Genoese  meeting  the  courtesies  like  a  man  accustomed 
to  be  the  object  of  peculiar  attentions,  and  possibly  like  one 
who  rather  rioted  in  the  impunity  from  ceremonies  and  pub¬ 
lic  observation,  that  he  now  happened  to  enjoy.  Adelheid, 
with  a  maiden  of  the  house  of  Blonay,  closed  the  little  train. 

As  all  commendable  diligence  was  used  by  the  officers  of 
the  peace  to  make  way  for  the  bailiff,  Herr  Ilofmeister  and 
his  companions  were  soon  in  their  allotted  stations,  which, 
it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  repeat,  were  the  upper  places  on 
the  estrade.  Peter  had  seated  himself,  after  returning  nu¬ 
merous  salutations,  for  none  in  a  situation  to  catch  his  eye 
neglected  so  fair  an  opportunity  to  show  their  intimacy  with 
the  bailiff,  when  his  wandering  glance  fell  upon  the  happy 
visage  of  Father  Xavier.  Rising  hastily,  the  bailiff  went 
through  a  multitude  of  the  formal  ceremonies  that  distin¬ 
guished  the  courtesy  of  the  place  and  period,  such  as  fre¬ 
quent  wavings  and  liftings  of  the  beaver,  profound  rever¬ 
ences,  smiles  that  seemed  to  flow  from  the  heart,  and  a 
variety  of  other  tokens  of  extraordinary  love  and  respect. 
When  all  were  ended,  he  resumed  his  place  by  the  side  of 
Melchior  de  Willading,  with  whom  he  commenced  a  confi¬ 
dential  dialogue. 

“  We  know  not,  noble  Freiherr  ”  (he  spoke  in  the  ver¬ 
nacular  of  their  common  canton),  “  whether  we  have  most 
reason  to  esteem  or  to  disrelish  these  Augustines.  While 
they  do  so  many  Christian  acts  to  the  travellers  on  their 
mountain  yonder,  they  are  devils  incarnate  in  the  way  of 
upholding  popery  and  its  abominations  among  the  people. 
Look  you,  the  commonalty  —  God  bless  them  as  they  de¬ 
serve  !  —  have  no  great  skill  at  doctrinal  discussions,  and 
are  much  disposed  to  be  led  away  by  appearances.  Num¬ 
berless  are  the  miserable  dolts  wTho  fancy  the  godliness 


19  6 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


which  is  content  to  pass  its  time  on  the  top  of  a  frozen  hill, 
doing  good,  feeding  the  hungry,  dressing  the  wounds  of  the 
fallen,  and  —  but  thou  knowest  the  manner  in  which  these 
sayings  run  —  the  ignorant,  as  I  was  about  to  add,  are  but 
too  ready  to  believe  that  the  religion  which  leads  men  to  do 
this,  must  have  some  savor  of  Heaven  in  it,  after  all !  ” 

“  Are  they  so  very  wrong,  friend  Peter,  that  we  were 
wise  to  disturb  the  monks  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  favor  that 
is  so  fairly  earned  ?  ” 

The  bailiff  looked  askance  at  his  brother  burgher,  for 
such  was  the  humble  appellation  that  aristocracy  assumed 
in  Berne,  appearing  desirous  to  probe  the  depth  of  the 
other’s  political  morals  before  he  spoke  more  freely. 

“  Though  of  a  house  so  honored  and  trusted,  I  believe 
thou  art  not  much  accustomed  of  late  to  mingle  with  the 
council  ?  ”  he  evasively  observed. 

u  Since  the  heavy  losses  in  my  family,  of  which  thou 
mayst  have  heard,  the  care  of  this  sole  surviving  child  has 
been  my  principal  solace  and  occupation.  I  know  not 
whether  the  frequent  and  near  sight  of  death  among  those 
so  tenderly  loved  may  have  softened  my  heart  towards  the 
Augustines,  but  to  me  theirs  seems  a  self-denying  and  a 
right  worthy  life.” 

“  ’Tis  doubtless  as  you  say,  noble  Melchior,  and  we  shall 
do  well  to  let  our  love  for  the  holy  canons  be  seen.  Ho  ! 
Mr.  Officer  —  do  us  the  favor  to  request  the  reverend  monk 
of  St.  Bernard  to  draw  nearer,  that  the  people  may  learn 
the  esteem  in  which  their  patient  charities  and  never-weary¬ 
ing  benevolence  are  held  by  the  lookers-on.  As  you  will 
have  occasion  to  pass  a  night  beneath  the  convent’s  roof, 
Herr  von  Willading,  in  your  journey  to  Italy,  a  little  honor 
shown  to  the  honest  and  painstaking  clavier  will  not  be  lost 
on  the  brotherhood,  if  these  churchmen  have  even  a  decent 
respect  for  the  usages  of  their  fellow-creatures.” 

Father  Xavier  took  the  proffered  place,  which  was  nearer 
to  the  person  of  the  bailiff  than  the  one  he  had  just  quitted, 
and  insomuch  the  more  honorable,  with  the  usual  thanks, 
but  with  a  simplicity  which  proved  that  he  understood  the 
compliment  to  be  due  to  the  fraternity  of  which  he  was  a 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


197 


member,  and  not  to  himself.  This  little  disposition  made, 
as  well  as  all  other  preliminary  matters  properly  observed, 
the  bailiff  seemed  satisfied  with  himself  and  his  arrange¬ 
ments  for  the  moment. 

The  reader  must  imagine  -the  stir  in  the  throng,  the 
importance  of  the  minor  agents  appointed  to  marshal  the 
procession,  and  the  mixture  of  weariness  and  curiosity  that 
possessed  the  spectators,  while  the  several  parts  of  so  com¬ 
plicated  and  numerous  a  train  were  getting  arranged,  each 
in  its  prescribed  order  and  station.  But,  as  the  ceremonies 
which  followed  were  of  a  peculiar  character,  and  have  an 
intimate  connection  with  the  events  of  the  tale,  we  shall  de¬ 
scribe  them  with  a  little  detail,  although  the  task  we  have 
allotted  to  ourselves  is  less  that  of  sketching  pictures  of  local 
usages,  and  of  setting  before  the  reader’s  imagination  scenes 
of  real  or  fancied  antiquarian  accuracy,  than  the  exposition 
of  a  principle,  and  the  wholesome  moral  which  we  have 
always  flattered  ourselves  might,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
follow  from  our  labors. 

A  short  time  previously  to  the  commencement  of  the 
ceremonies,  a  guard  of  honor,  composed  of  shepherds,  gar¬ 
deners,  mowers,  reapers,  vine-dressers,  escorted  by  halber¬ 
diers  and  headed  by  music,  had  left  the  square  in  quest  of 
the  abbe  as  the  regular  and  permanent  presiding  officer  of 
the  abbaye,  or  company,  is  termed.  This  escort,  all  the  in¬ 
dividuals  of  which  were  dressed  in  character,  was  not  long 
in  making  its  appearance  with  the  officer  in  question,  a 
warm,  substantial  citizen  and  proprietor  of  the  place,  who, 
otherwise  -attired  in  the  ordinary  costume  of  his  class  in 
that  age,  had  decorated  his  beaver  with  a  waving  plume, 
and,  in  addition  to  a  staff  or  baton,  wore  a  flowing  scarf 
pendent  from  his  shoulder.  This  personage,  on  whom  cer¬ 
tain  judicial  functions  had  devolved,  took  a  convenient  posi¬ 
tion  in  the  front  of  the  stage,  and  soon  made  a  sign  for  the 
officials  to  proceed  with  their  duties. 

Twelve  vine-dressers  led  by  a  chief,  each  having  his  per¬ 
son  more  or  less  ornamented  with  garlands  of  vine-leaves, 
and  bearing  other  emblems  of  his  calling,  marched  in  a  body, 
chanting  a  song  of  the  fields.  They  escorted  two  of  their 


198 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


number  who  had  been  pronounced  the  most  skillful  and  suc¬ 
cessful  in  cultivating  the  vineyards  of  the  adjacent  cotes. 
When  they  reached  the  front  of  the  estrade,  the  abbe  pro¬ 
nounced  a  short  discourse  in  honor  of  the  cultivators  of  the 
earth  in  general,  after  which  he  digressed  into  especial  eulo- 
giums  on  the  successful  candidates  —  two  pleased,  abashed, 
and  unpracticed  peasants,  who  received  the  simple  prizes 
with  throbbing  hearts.  This  little  ceremony  observed,  amid 
the  eager  and  delighted  gaze  of  friends,  and  the  oblique 
and  discontented  regards  of  the  few  whose  feelings  were  too 
contracted  to  open  to  the  joys  of  others,  even  on  this  simple 
and  grateful  festival,  the  trumpets  sounded  again,  and  the 
cry  was  raised  to  make  room. 

A  large  group  advanced  from  among  the  body  of  the 
actors  to  an  open  space,  of  sufficient  size  and  elevation,  im¬ 
mediately  in  front  of  the  stage.  When  in  full  view  of  the 
multitude,  those  who  composed  it  arranged  themselves  in  a 
prescribed  and  seemly  order.  They  were  the  officials  of 
Bacchus.  The  high-priest,  robed  in  a  sacrificial  dress,  with 
flowing  beard,  and  head  crowned  with  the  vine,  stood  fore¬ 
most,  chanting  in  honor  of  the  craft  of  the  vine-dresser. 
His  song  also  contained  a  few  apposite  allusions  to  the  smil¬ 
ing,  blushing  candidates.  The  whole  joined  in  the  chorus, 
though  the  leader  of  the  band  scarce  needed  the  support  of 
any  other  lungs  than  those  with  which  he  had  been  very 
amply  furnished  by  nature. 

The  hymn  ended,  a  general  burst  of  instrumental  music 
succeeded  ;  and,  the  followers  of  Bacchus  regaining  their 
allotted  station,  the  general  procession  began  to  move, 
sweeping  round  the  whole  area  of  the  square  in  a  manner 
to  pass  in  order  before  the  bailiff. 

The  first  body  in  the  march  was  composed  of  the  council 
of  the  abbaye,  attended  by  the  shepherds  and  gardeners. 
One  in  an  antique  costume,  and  bearing  a  halberd,  acted  as 
marshal.  He  was  succeeded  by  the  two  crowned  vine¬ 
dressers,  after  whom  came  the  abbe  with  his  counselors,  and 
large  groups  of  shepherds  and  shepherdesses,  as  well  as  a 
number  of  both  sexes  who  toiled  in  gardens,  all  attired  in 
costumes  suited  to  the  traditions  of  their  respective  pursuits. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


199 


The  marshal  and  the  officers  of  the  abbaye  moved  slowly 
past,  with  the  gravity  and  decorum  that  became  their  sta¬ 
tions,  occasionally  halting  to  give  time  for  the  evolutions  of 
those  who  followed ;  but  the  other  actors  now  began  in 
earnest  to  play  their  several  parts.  A  group  of  young 
shepherdesses,  clad  in  closely-fitting  vests  of  sky-blue  with 
skirts  of  white,  each  holding  her  crook,  came  forward  danc¬ 
ing,  and  singing  songs  that  imitated  the  bleatings  of  their 
flocks,  and  all  the  other  sounds  familiar  to  the  elevated 
pasturages  of  that  region.  These  were  soon  joined  by  an 
equal  number  of  young  shepherds,  also  singing  their  pasto¬ 
rals,  the  whole  exhibiting  an  active  and  merry  group  of 
dancers,  accustomed  to  exercise  their  art  on  the  sward  of 
the  Alps ;  for  in  this  festival,  although  we  have  spoken 
of  the  performers  as  actors,  it  is  not  in  the  literal  meaning 
of  the  term,  since,  with  few  exceptions,  none  appeared  to 
represent  any  other  calling  than  that  which  in  truth  formed 
his  or  her  daily  occupation.  We  shall  not  detain  the  nar¬ 
rative  to  say  more  of  this  party,  than  that  they  formed  a 
less  striking  exception  to  the  conventional  picture  of  the 
appearance  of  those  engaged  in  tending  flocks,  than  the 
truth  ordinarily  betrays ;  and  that  their  buoyant  gayety, 
blooming  faces,  and  unwearied  action  formed  a  good  intro¬ 
ductory  preparation  for  the  saltation  that  was  to  follow. 

The  male  gardeners  appeared  in  their  aprons,  carrying 
spades,  rakes,  and  the  other  implements  of  their  trade  ;  the 
females  supporting  baskets  on  their  heads  filled  with  rich 
flowers,  vegetables,  and  fruits.  When  in  front  of  the  bailiff, 
the  young  men  formed  a  sort  of  fasces  of  their  several  im¬ 
plements,  with  a  readiness  that  denoted  much  study,  while 
the  girls  arranged  their  baskets  in  a  circle  at  its  foot. 
Then,  joining  hands,  the  whole  whirled  around,  filling  the 
air  with  a  song  peculiar  to  their  pursuits. 

During  the  whole  of  the  preparations  of  the  morning, 
Adelheid  had  looked  on  with  a  vacant  eye,  as  if  her  feelings 
had  little  connection  with  that  which  was  passing  before  her 
face.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  her  mind,  in  spite 
of  herself,  wandered  to  other  scenes,  and  that  her  truant 
thoughts  were  busy  with  interests  very  different  from  those 


200 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


which  were  here  presented  to  the  senses.  But,  by  the  time 
the  group  of  gardeners  had  passed  dancing  awa}~,  her  feel¬ 
ings  began  to  enlist  with  those  who  were  so  evidently 
pleased  with  themselves  and  all  around  them,  and  her  father, 
for  the  first  time  that  morning,  was  rewarded  for  the  deep 
attention  with  which  he  watched  the  play  of  her  features, 
by  an  affectionate  and  natural  smile. 

“  This  goes  off  right  merrily,  Herr  Bailiff,”  exclaimed 
the  baron,  animated  by  that  encouraging  smile,  as  the  blood 
is  quickened  by  a  genial' ray  of  the  sun’s  heat  when  it  has 
been  long  chilled  and  deadened  by  cold.  “  This  goes  off  with 
a  joyful  will,  and  is  likely  to  end  with  credit  to  thy  town  ! 
I  only  wonder  that  you  have  not  more  of  this,  and  monthly. 
When  joy  can  be  had  so  cheap,  it  is  churlish  to  deny  it  to  a 
people.” 

“We  complain  not  of  the  levities,  noble  Freiherr,  for 
your  light  thinker  makes  a  sober  and  dutiful  subject ;  but 
we  shall  have  more  of  this,  and  of  a  far  better  quality,  or 
our  time  is  wasted.  What  is  thought  at  Berne,  noble  Mel¬ 
chior,  of  the  prospects  of  the  Emperor’s  obtaining  a  new 
concession  for  the  levy  of  troops  in  our  cantons  ?  ” 

“  I  cry  thy  mercy,  good  Peterchen,  but  by  thy  leave  we 
will  touch  on  these  matters  more  at  our  leisure.  Boyish 
though  its  seem  to  thy  eyes,  so  long  accustomed  to  look  at 
matters  of  state,  I  do  confess  that  these  follies  begin  to  have 
their  entertainment,  and  may  well  claim  an  hour  of  idleness 
from  him  that  has  nothing  better  in  hand.” 

Peter  Hofmeister  ejaculated  a  little  expressively.  He 
then  examined  the  countenance  of  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  who 
had  given  himself  to  the  merriment  with  the  perfect  good¬ 
will  and  self-abandonment  of  a  man  of  strong  intellect,  and 
who  felt  his  powers  too  sensibly  to  be  jealous  of  appear¬ 
ances.  Shrugging  his  shoulders,  like  one  that  was  disap¬ 
pointed,  the  pragmatical  bailiff*  turned  his  look  towards  the 
revelers,  in  order  to  detect,  if  possible,  some  breach  of  the 
usages  of  the  country,  that  might  require  official  reproof ; 
for  Peter  was  of  that  class  of  governors  who  have  an  itch¬ 
ing  to  see  their  fingers  stirring  even  the  air  that  is  breathed 
by  the  people,  lest  they  should  get  it  of  a  quality  or  in  a 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


201 


quantity  that  might  prove  dangerous  to  a  monopoly  which 
it  is  now  the  fashion  to  call  the  conservative  principle.  In 
the  mean  time  the  revels  proceeded. 

No  sooner  had  the  gardeners  quitted  the  arena,  than  a 
solemn  and  imposing  train  appeared  to  occupy  the  sward. 
Four  females  marched  to  the  front,  bearing  an  antique  altar 
that  was  decorated  with  suitable  devices.  They  were  clad 
in  emblematical  dresses,  and  wore  garlands  of  dowers  on  their 
heads.  Boys  carrying  censers  preceded  an  altar  that  was 
dedicated  to  Flora,  and  her  ministering  official  came  after 
it,  mitred  and  carrying  flowers.  Like  all  the  priestesses 
that  followed,  she  was  laboriously  attired  in  the  robes  that 
denoted  her  sacred  duty.  The  goddess  herself  was  borne 
by  four  females  on  a  throne  canopied  by  flowers,  and  from 
whose  several  parts  sweeping  festoons  of  every  hue  and  dye 
descended  to  the  earth.  Haymakers  of  both  sexes,  gay  and 
pastoral  in  their  air  and  attire,  succeeded,  and  a  car  groan- 
ing  with  the  sweet-scented  grass  of  the  Alps,  accompanied 
by  females  bearing  rakes,  brought  up  the  rear. 

The  altar  and  the  throne  being  deposited  on  the  sward, 
the  priestess  offered  sacrifice,  hymning  the  praise  of  the 
goddess  with  mountain  lungs.  Then  followed  the  dance  of 
the  haymakers,  as  in  the  preceding  exhibition,  and  the  train 
went  off  as  before. 

“  Excellent  well,  and  truer  than  it  could  be  done  by 
your  real  pagan  !  ”  cried  the  bailiff,  who,  in  spite  of  his 
official  longings,  began  to  watch  the  mummery  with  a 
pleased  eye.  “  This  beateth  greatly  our  youthful  follies  in 
the  Genoese  and  Lombard  carnivals,  in  which,  to  say  truth, 
there  are  sometimes  seen  rare  niceties  in  the  way  of  repre¬ 
senting  the  old  deities.” 

“  Is  it  the  usage,  friend  Hofmeister,”  demanded  the 
baron,  “  to  enjoy  these  admirable  pleasantries  often  here  in 
Vaud  ?  ” 

“  We  partake  of  them,  from  time  to  time,  as  the  abbaye 
desires,  and  much  as  thou  seest.  The  honorable  Signor 
Grimaldi  —  who  will  pardon  me  that  he  gets  no  better 
treatment  than  he  receives,  and  who  will  not  fail  to  ascribe 
what,  to  all  who  know  him,  might  otherwise  pass  for  inex- 


202 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


cusable  neglect,  to  his  own  desire  for  privacy  —  he  will  tell 
us,  should  lie  he  pleased  to  honor  us  with  his  real  opinion, 
that  the  subject  is  none  the  worse  for  occasions  to  laugh 
and  be  gay.  Now,  there  is  Geneva,  a  town  given  to 
subtleties  as  ingenious  and  complicated  as  the  machinery  of 
their  own  watches ;  it  can  never  have  a  merry-making 
without  a  leaven  of  disputation  and  reason,  two  as  damnable 
ingredients  in  the  public  humor  as  schism  in  religion,  or 
two  minds  in  a  menage.  There  is  not  a  knave  in  the  city 
who  does  not  fancy  himself  a  better  man  than  Calvin,  and 
some  there  are  who  believe  if  they  are  not  cardinals,  it  is 
merely  because  the  reformed  church  does  not  relish  legs 
cased  in  red  stockings.  By  the  word  of  a  bailiff!  I  would 
not  be  the  ruler,  look  ye,  of  such  a  community,  for  the 
hope  of  becoming  Avoyer  of  Berne  itself.  Here  it  is 
different.  We  play  our  antics  in  the  shape  of  gods  and 
goddesses  like  sober  people,  and,  when  all  is  over,  we  go 
train  our  vines,  or  count  our  herds,  like  faithful  subjects  of 
the  great  canton.  Do  I  state  the  matter  fairly  to  our 
friends,  Baron  de  Blonay  ?  ” 

Roger  de  Blonay  bit  his  lip,  for  he  and  his  had  been  of 
Yaud  a  thousand  years,  and  he  little  relished  the  allusion 
to  the  quiet  manner  in  which  his  countrymen  submitted  to  a 
compelled  and  foreign  dictation.  He  bowed  a  cold  ac¬ 
quiescence  to  the  bailiff’s  statement,  however,  as  if  no 
further  answer  were  needed. 

“  We  have  other  ceremonies  that  invite  our  attention,” 
said  Melchior  de  Willading,  who  had  sufficient  acquaintance 
with  his  friend’s  opinions  to  understand  his  silence. 

The  next  group  that  approached  was  composed  of  those 
who  lived  by  the  products  of  the  dairy.  Two  cowherds  led 
their  beasts,  the  monotonous  tones  of  whose  heavy  bells 
formed  a  deep  and  rural  accompaniment  to  the  music  that 
regularly  preceded  each  party,  while  a  train  of  dairy -girls, 
and  of  young  mountaineers  of  the  class  that  tend  the  herds 
in  the  summer  pasturages,  succeeded,  a  car  loaded  with  the 
implements  of  their  calling  bringing  up  the  rear.  In  this 
little  procession,  no  detail  of  equipment  was  wanting.  The 
milking-stool  was  strapped  to  the  body  of  the  dairyman  ; 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


203 


one  had  the  peculiarly  constructed  pail  in  his  hand,  while 
another  bore  at  his  back  the  deep  wooden  vessel  in  which 
milk  is  carried  up  and  down  the  precipices  to  the  chalet. 
When  they  reached  the  sodden  arena,  the  men  commenced 
milking  the  cows,  the  girls  set  in  motion  the  different 
processes  of  the  dairy,  and  the  whole  united  in  singing  the 
Ranz  des  Vaclies  of  the  district.  It  is  generally  and  erro¬ 
neously  believed  that  there  is  a  particular  air  which  is 
known  throughout  Switzerland  by  this  name,  whereas  in 
truth  nearly  every  canton  has  its  own  song  of  the  moun¬ 
tains,  each  varying  from  the  others  in  the  notes,  as  well  as 
in  the  words,  and  we  might  almost  add  in  the  language. 
The  Ranz  des  Vaches  of  Vaud  is  in  the  patois  of  the  coun¬ 
try,  a  dialect  that  is  composed  of  words  of  Greek  and  Latin 
origin,  mingled  on  a  foundation  of  Celtic.  Like  our  own 
familiar  tune,  which  was  first  bestowed  in  derision,  and 
which  a  glorious  history  has  enabled  us  to  continue  in 
pride,  the  words  are  far  too  numerous  to  be  repeated.  We 
shall,  however,  give  the  reader  a  single  verse  of  a  song 
which  Swiss  feeling  has  rendered  so  celebrated,  and  which 
is  said  often  to  induce  the  mountaineer  in  foreign  service  to 
desert  the  mercenary  standard  and  the  tame  scenes  of  towns, 
to  return  to  the  magnificent  nature  that  haunts  his  waking 
imagination  and  embellishes  his  dreams.  It  will  at  once  be 
perceived  that  the  power  of  this  song  is  chiefly  to  be  found 
in  the  recollections  to  which  it  gives  birth,  by  recalling  the 
simple  charms  of  rural  life,  and  by  reviving  the  indelible 
impressions  that  are  made  by  Nature  wherever  she  has  laid 
her  hand  on  the  face  of  the  earth  with  the  same  majesty  as 
in  Switzerland. 

L6  zermailli  dei  Colombett6 

D6  boa  matin,  s6  san  l£ha. 

Refrain. 

Ha,  ah !  ha,  ah ! 

Liauba!  Liauba!  por  aria. 

Venide  tot£, 

Bllantz’  et  naire, 

Rodz  et  motaile, 

Dzjouvan’  et  etro 
Dezo  ou  tzehano, 


204 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Io  vo  z’  ario 
Dezo  ou  triembllo, 

Io  ie  triudzo, 

Liauba !  Liauba !  por  aria.1 

The  music  of  the  mountains  is  peculiar  and  wild,  having 
most  probably  received  its  inspiration  from  the  grandeur  of 
the  natural  objects.  Most  of  the  sounds  partake  of  the 
character  of  echoes,  being  high-keyed  but  false  notes  ;  such 
as  the  rocks  send  back  to  the  valleys,  when  the  voice  is 
raised  above  its  natural  key  in  order  to  reach  the  caverns 
and  savage  recesses  of  inaccessible  precipices.  Strains  like 
these  readily  recall  the  glens  and  the  magnificence  amid 
which  they  were  first  heard,  and  hence,  by  an  irresistible 
impulse,  the  mind  is  led  to  indulge  in  the  strongest  of  all 
its  sympathies,  those  which  are  mixed  with  the  unalloyed 
and  unsophisticated  delights  of  buoyant  childhood. 

The  herdsmen  and  dairymaids  no  sooner  uttered  the  first 
notes  of  this  magic  song,  than  a  deep  and  breathing  still¬ 
ness  pervaded  the  crowd.  As  the  peculiar  strains  of  the 
chorus  rose  on  the  ear,  murmuring  echoes  issued  from 
among  the  spectators,  and  ere  the  wild  intonations  could  be 
repeated  which  accompanied  the  words  “  Liauba !  Liauba  !  ” 
a  thousand  voices  were  lifted  simultaneously,  as  it  were,  to 
greet  the  surrounding  mountains  with  the  salutations  of 
their  children.  From  that  moment  the  remainder  of  the 
Ranz  des  Yaches  was  a  common  burst  of  enthusiasm,  the 
offspring  of  that  national  fervor,  which  forms  so  strong  a 

1  The  cowherds  of  the  Alps 

Arise  at  an  early  hour. 

Chorus. 

Ha,  ah  !  ha,  ah ! 

Liauba !  Liauba !  in  order  to  milk. 

Come  all  of  you, 

Black  and  white, 

Red  and  mottled, 

Young  and  old ; 

Beneath  this  oak 
I  am  about  to  milk  you, 

Beneath  this  poplar, 

I  am  about  to  press, 

Liauba !  Liauba !  in  order  to  milk. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


205 


link  in  the  social  chain,  and  which  is  capable  of  recalling 
to  the  bosom  that,  in  other  respects,  has  been  hardened  by 
vice  and  crime,  a  feeling  of  some  of  the  purest  sentiments 
of  our  nature. 

The  last  strain  died  amid  this  general  exhibition  of 
healthful  feeling.  The  cowherds  and  the  dairy-girls  col¬ 
lected  their  different  implements,  and  resumed  their  march 
to  the  melancholy  music  of  the  bells,  which  formed  a 
deep  contrast  to  the  wild  notes  that  had  just  filled  the 
square. 

To  these  succeeded  the  followers  of  Ceres,  with  the 
altar,  the  priestess,  and  the  enthroned  goddess,  as  has  been 
already  described  in  the  approach  of  Flora.  Cornucopiae 
ornamented  the  chair  of  the  deity,  and  the  canopy  was 
adorned  with  the  gifts  of  autumn.  The  whole  was  sur¬ 
mounted  by  a  sheaf  of  wheat.  She  held  the  sickle  as  her 
sceptre,  and  a  tiara  composed  of  the  bearded  grain  covered 
her  brow.  Reapers  followed,  bearing  emblems  of  the  sea¬ 
son  of  abundance,  and  gleaners  closed  the  train.  There 
was  the  halt,  the  chant,  the  chorus,  and  the  song  in  praise 
of  the  beneficent  goddess  of  autumn,  as  had  been  done  by 
the  votaries  of  the  deity  of  flowers.  A  dance  of  the  reap¬ 
ers  and  gleaners  followed,  the  threshers  flourished  their 
flails,  and  the  whole  went  their  way. 

After  these  came  the  grand  standard  of  the  abbaye,  and 
the  vine-dressers,  the  real  objects  of  the  festival,  succeeded. 
The  laborers  of  the  spring  led  the  advance,  the  men  carry¬ 
ing  their  picks  and  spades,  and  the  women  vessels  to  con¬ 
tain  the  cuttings  of  the  vines.  Then  came  a  train  bearing 
baskets  loaded  with  the  fruit,  in  its  different  degrees  of 
perfection  and  of  every  shade  of  color.  Youths  holding 
staves  topped  with  miniature  representations  of  the  various 
utensils  known  in  the  culture  of  the  grape,  such  as  the 
laborer  with  the  tub  on  his  back,  the  butt,  and  the  vessel 
which  first  receives  the  flowing  juice,  followed.  A  great 
number  of  men,  who  brought  forward  the  forge  that  is  used 
to  prepare  the  tools,  closed  this  part  of  the  exhibition. 
The  song  and  the  dance  again  succeeded,  when  the  whole 


206 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


disappeared  at  a  signal  given  by  the  approaching  music  of 
Bacchus.  As  we  now  touch  upon  the  most  elaborate  part 
of  the  representation,  we  seize  the  interval  that  is  neces¬ 
sary  to  bring  it  forward,  in  order  to  take  breath  our¬ 
selves. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


207 


CHAPTER  XY. 

And  thou,  0  wall,  0  sweet,  O  lovely  wall, 

That  stand’st  between  her  father’s  ground  and  mine 
Thou  wall,  0  wall,  O  sweet  and  lovely  wall, 

Show  me  thy  chink,  to  blink  through  with  mine  eyne. 

Midsummer-Night’s  Dream. 

Odds  my  life,  but  this  goes  off  with  a  grace,  brother 
Peter  !  ”  exclaimed  the  Baron  de  Willading,  as  he  followed 
the  vine-dressers  in  their  retreat,  with  an  amused  eye. 
“  If  we  have  much  more  like  it,  I  shall  forget  the  dignity 
of  the  burgerschaft,  and  turn  mummer  with  the  rest, 
though  my  good  name  for  wisdom  were  the  forfeit  of  the 

folly.” 

“  That  is  better  said  between  ourselves  than  performed 
before  the  vulgar  eye,  honorable  Melchior.  It  would  sound 
ill,  of  a  truth,  were  these  Yaudois  to  boast  that  a  noble  of 
thy  estimation  in  Berne  were  thus  to  forget  himself !  ” 

“  None  of  this !  —  are  we  not  here  to  be  merry,  and  to 
laugh,  and  to  be  pleased  with  any  folly  that  offers  ?  A 
truce,  then,  to  thy  official  distrusts  and  superabundant  dig¬ 
nity,  honest  Peterchen,”  for  such  was  the  good-natured  name 
by  which  the  worthy  bailiff  was  most  commonly  addressed 
by  his  friend ;  “  let  the  tongue  freely  answer  to  the  heart, 
as  if  we  were  boys  rioting  together,  as  was  once  the  case, 
long  ere  thou  wert  thought  of  for  this  office,  or  I  knew  a 
sorrowful  hour.” 

“  The  Signor  Grimaldi  shall  judge  between  us.  I  main¬ 
tain  that  restraint  is  necessary  to  those  in  high  trusts.” 

“  I  will  decide  when  the  actors  have  all  played  their 
parts,”  returned  the  Genoese,  smiling  ;  “  at  present,  here 
cometh  one  to  whom  all  old  soldiers  pay  homage.  We  will 
not  fail  of  respect  in  so  great  a  presence,  on  account  of  a 
little  difference  in  taste.” 


208 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Peter  Hofmeister  was  not  a  small  drinker,  and  as  the 
approach  of  the  god  of  the  cup  was  announced  by  a  flour¬ 
ish  from  some  twenty  instruments  made  to  speak  on  a  key 
suited  to  the  vault  of  heaven,  he  was  obliged  to  reserve  his 
opinions  for  another  time.  After  the  passage  of  the  musi¬ 
cians  and  a  train  of  the  abbaye’s  servants,  for  especial  hon¬ 
ors  were  paid  to  the  ruby  deity,  there  came  three  officials 
of  the  sacrifice,  one  leading  a  goat  with  gilded  horns,  while 
the  two  others  bore  the  knife  and  the  hatchet.  To  these 
succeeded  the  altar  adorned  with  vines,  the  incense-bearers, 
and  the  high-priest  of  Bacchus,  who  led  the  way  for  the 
appearance  of  the  youthful  god  himself.  The  deity  was 
seated  astride  on  a  cask,  his  head  encircled  with  a  garland 
of  generous  grapes,  bearing  a  cup  in  one  hand,  and  a  vine- 
entwined  and  fruit-crowned  sceptre  in  the  other.  Four 
Nubians  carried  him  on  their  shoulders,  while  others  shaded 
his  form  with  an  appropriate  canopy  ;  fauns  wearing  tiger- 
skins,  and  playing  their  characteristic  antics,  danced  in  his 
train,  while  twenty  laughing  and  light-footed  Bacchantes 
flourished  their  instruments,  moving  in  measure  in  the 
rear. 

A  general  shout  in  the  multitude  preceded  the  appear¬ 
ance  of  Silenus,  who  was  sustained  in  his  place  on  an  ass 
by  two  blackamoors.  The  half-empty  skins  at  his  side,  the 
vacant  laugh,  the  foolish  eye,  the  lolling  tongue,  the  bloated 
lip,  and  the  idiotic  countenance,  gave  reason  to  suspect 
that  there  was  a  better  motive  for  their  support  than  any 
which  belonged  to  the  truth  of  the  representation.  Two 
youths  then  advanced,  bearing  on  a  pole  a  cluster  of  grapes 
that  nearly  descended  to  the  ground,  and  which  was  in¬ 
tended  to  represent  the  fruit  brought  from  Canaan  by  the 
messengers  of  Joshua  —  a  symbol  much  affected  by  the 
artists  and  mummers  of  the  other  hemisphere,  on  occasions 
suited  to  its  display.  A  huge  vehicle,  ycleped  the  ark  of 
Noah,  closed  the  procession.  It  held  a  wine-press,  having 
its  workmen  embowered  among  the  vines,  and  it  contained 
the  family  of  the  second  father  of  the  human  race.  As  it 
rolled  past,  traces  of  the  rich  liquor  were  left  in  the  tracks 
of  its  wheels. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


209 


Then  came  the  sacrifice,  the  chant,  and  the  dance,  as 
in  most  of  the  preceding  exhibitions,  each  of  which,  like 
this  of  Bacchus,  had  contained  allusions  to  the  peculiar 
habits  and  attributes  of  the  different  deities.  The  baccha¬ 
nal  that  closed  the  scene  was  performed  in  character ;  the 
trumpets  flourished  and  the  procession  departed  in  the 
order  in  which  it  had  arrived. 

Peter  relented  a  little  from  his  usual  political  reserve, 
as  he  witnessed  these  games  in  honor  of  a  deity  to  whom  he 
so  habitually  did  practical  homage,  for  it  was  seldom  that 
this  elaborate  functionary,  who  might  be  termed  quite  a 
doctrinaire  in  his  way,  composed  his  senses  in  sleep  with¬ 
out  having  pretty  effectually  steeped  them  in  the  liquor 
of  the  neighboring  hills ;  a  habit  that  was  of  far  more 
general  use  among  men  of  his  class  in  that  age  than  in 
this  of  ours,  which  seems  so  eminently  to  be  the  season 
of  sobriety. 

“  This  is  not  amiss,  of  a  verity,”  observed  the  contented 
bailiff,  as  the  Fauns  and  Bacchantes  moved  off  the  sward, 
capering  and  cutting  their  classical  antics  with  far  more 
agility  and  zeal  than  grace.  “  This  looks  like  the  inspira¬ 
tion  of  good  wine,  Signor  Genoese,  and  were  the  truth 
known,  it  would  be  found  that  the  rogue  who  plays  the 
part  of  the  fat  person  on  the  ass  —  how  dost  call  the  knave, 
noble  Melchior  ?  ” 

“  Body  o’  me  !  if  I  am  wiser  than  thyself,  worthy  bailiff ; 
it  is  clearly  a  rogue  who  can  never  have  done  his  mummery 
so  expertly,  without  some  aid  from  the  flask.” 

“  ’Twill  be  well  to  know  the  fellow’s  character,  for  there 
may  be  occasion  to  commend  him  to  the  gentlemen  of  the 
abbaye,  when  all  is  over.  Your  skillful  ruler  has  two  great 
instruments  that  he  need  use  with  discretion,  Baron  de 
Willading,  and  these  are,  fear  and  flattery ;  and  Berne  hath 
no  servant  more  ready  to  apply  both,  or  either,  as  there 
may  be  necessity,  than  one  of  her  poor  bailiffs  that  hath  not 
received  all  his  dues  from  the  general  opinion,  if  truth  were 
spoken.  But  it  is  well  to  be  prepared  to  speak  these  good 
people  of  the  abbeye  fairly,  touching  their  exploits.  Harkee, 

Master  Halberdier  ;  thou  art  of  Vevey,  I  think,  and  a  warm 

14 


210 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


citizen  in  thy  every-day  character,  or  ray  eyes  do  us  both 
injustice  ?  ” 

“  I  am,  as  you  have  said,  Monsieur  le  Bailli,  a  Vevaisan, 
and  one  that  is  well  known  among  our  artisans.” 

“  True,  that  was  visible,  spite  of  thy  halberd.  Thou  art, 
no  doubt,  rarely  gifted,  and  taught  to  the  letter  in  these 
games.  Wilt  name  the  character  that  has  just  ridden  past 
on  the  ass  —  he  that  hath  so  well  enacted  the  drunkard,  I 
mean  ?  His  name  hath  gone  out  of  our  minds  for  the 
moment,  though  his  acting  never  can,  for  a  better  perform¬ 
ance  of  one  overcome  by  liquor  is  seldom  seen.” 

“  Lord  keep  you !  worshipful  bailiff,  that  is  Antoine  Gi- 
raud,  the  fat  butcher  of  La  Tour  de  Peil,  and  a  better  at 
the  cup  there  is  not  in  all  the  country  of  Vaud!  No  wonder 
that  he  hath  done  his  part  so  readily  ;  for,  while  the  others 
have  been  reading  in  books,  or  drilling  like  so  many  awk¬ 
ward  recruits  under  the  schoolmaster,  Antoine  hath  had 
little  more  to  perform  than  to  dip  into  the  skin  at  his 
elbow.  When  the  officers  of  the  abbaye  complain,  lest  he 
should  disturb  the  ceremonies,  he  bids  them  not  to  make 
fools  of  themselves,  for  every  swallow  he  gives  is  just  so 
much  done  in  honor  of  the  representation  ;  and  he  swears, 
by  the  creed  of  Calvin  !  that  there  shall  be  more  truth  in 
his  acting  than  in  that  of  any  other  of  the  whole  party.” 

“  Odds  my  life  !  the  fellow  hath  humor  as  well  as  good 
acting  in  him  —  this  Antoine  Giraud  !  Will  you  look  into 
the  written  order  they  have  given  us,  fair  Adelheid,  that  we 
may  make  sure  this  artisan-lialberdier  hath  not  deceived 
us?  We  in  authority  must  not  trust  a  Vevaisan  too 
lightly.” 

“  It  will  be  vain,  I  fear,  Herr  Bailiff,  since  the  characters, 
and  not  the  names,  of  the  actors  appear  in  the  lists.  The 
man  in  question  represents  Silenus  I  should  think,  judging 
from  his  appearance  and  all  the  other  circumstances.” 

(l  Well,  let  it  be  as  thou  wilt.  Silenus  himself  could  not 
play  his  own  part  better  than  it  hath  been  done  by  this 
Antoine  Giraud.  The  fellow  would  gain  gold  like  water 
at  the  court  of  the  emperor  as  a  mime,  were  he  only  advised 
to  resort  thither.  I  warrant  you,  now,  he  would  do  Pluto, 


THE  HEADSMAN.  211 

or  Minerva,  or  any  other  god,  just  as  well  as  he  hath  done 
this  rogue  Silenus  !  ” 

The  honest  admiration  of  Peter,  who,  sooth  to  say,  had 
not  much  of  the  learning  of  the  age,  as  the  phrase  is,  raised 
a  smile  on  the  lip  of  the  beauteous  daughter  of  the  baron, 
and  she  glanced  a  look  to  catch  the  eye  of  Sigismund,  to¬ 
wards  whom  all  her  secret  sympathies,  whether  of  sorrow 
or  of  joy,  so  naturally  and  so  strongly  tended.  But  the 
averted  head,  the  fixed  attention,  and  the  nearly  immovable 
and  statue-like  attitude  in  which  he  stood,  showed  that  a 
more  powerful  interest  drew  his  gaze  to  the  next  group. 
Though  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  his  intense  regard,  Adel- 
heid  instantly  forgot  the  bailiff,  his  dogmatism,  and  his  want 
of  erudition,  in  the  wish  to  examine  those  who  approached. 

The  more  classical  portion  of  the  ceremonies  was  now 
duly  observed.  The  council  of  the  abbaye  intended  to  close 
with  an  exhibition  that  was  more  intelligible  to  the  mass 
of  the  spectators  than  anything  which  had  preceded  it,  since 
it  was  addressed  to  the  sympathies  and  habits  of  every  peo¬ 
ple,  and  in  all  conditions  of  society.  This  was  the  specta¬ 
cle  that  so  engrossingly  attracted  the  attention  of  Sigismund. 
It  was  termed  the  procession  of  the  nuptials,  and  it  was  now 
slowly  advancing  to  occupy  the  space  left  vacant  by  the  re¬ 
treat  of  Antoine  Giraud  and  his  companions. 

There  came  in  front  the  customary  band,  playing  a  lively 
air  which  use  has  long  appropriated  to  the  festivities  of 
Hymen.  The  lord  of  the  manor,  or,  as  he  was  termed,  the 
baron,  and  his  lady  partner  led  the  train,  both  appareled  in 
the  rich  and  quaint  attire  of  the  period.  Six  ancient  couples, 
the  representatives  of  happy  married  lives,  followed  by  a 
long  succession  of  offspring  of  every  age,  including  equally 
the  infant  at  the  breast  and  the  husband  and  wife  in  the 
flower  of  their  days,  walked  next  to  the  noble  pair.  Then 
appeared  the  section  of  a  dwelling,  which  was  made  to  por¬ 
tray  the  interior  of  domestic  economy,  having  its  kitchen, 
its  utensils,  and  most  of  the  useful  and  necessary  objects 
that  may  be  said  to  compose  the  material  elements  of  an 
humble  menage.  Within  this  moiety  of  a  house,  one 
female  plied  the  wheel,  and  another  was  occupied  in  baking. 


212 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  notary,  bearing  the  register  beneath  an  arm,  with  hat 
in  hand,  and  dressed  in  an  exaggerated  costume  of  his  pro¬ 
fession,  strutted  in  the  rear  of  the  two  industrious  house¬ 
maids.  His  appearance  was  greeted  with  a  general  laugh, 
for  the  spectators  relished  the  humor  of  the  caricature  with 
infinite  gout.  But  this  sudden  and  general  burst  of  merriment 
was  as  quickly  forgotten  in  the  desire  to  behold  the  bride 
and  bridegroom,  whose  station  was  next  to  that  of  the  offi¬ 
cer  of  the  law.  It  was  understood  that  these  parties  were 
not  actors,  but  that  the  abbaye  had  sought  out  a  couple,  of 
corresponding  rank  and  means,  who  had  consented  to  join 
their  fortunes  in  reality  on  the  occasion  of  this  great  jubilee, 
thereby  lending  to  it  a  greater  appearance  of  that  genuine 
joy  and  festivity  which  it  was  the  desire  of  the  heads  of  the 
association  to  represent.  Such  a  search  had  not  been  made 
without  exciting  deep  interest  in  the  simple  communities 
which  surrounded  Vevey.  Many  requisites  had  been  pro¬ 
claimed  to  be  necessary  in  the  candidates  —  such  as  beauty, 
modesty,  merit,  and  the  submission  of  her  sex,  in  the  bride  ; 
and  in  her  partner  those  qualities  which  might  fairly  entitle 
him  to  be  the  repository  of  the  happiness  of  a  maiden  so 
endowed. 

Many  had  been  the  speculations  of  the  Y6vaisans  touch¬ 
ing  the  individuals  who  had  been  selected  to  perform  these 
grave  and  important  characters,  which,  for  fidelity  of  repre¬ 
sentation,  were  to  outdo  that  of  Silenus  himself ;  but  so 
much  care  had  been  taken  by  the  agents  of  the  abbaye  to 
conceal  the  names  of  those  they  had  selected,  that,  until 
this  moment,  when  disguise  was  no  longer  possible,  the 
public  was  completely  in  the  dark  on  the  interesting  point. 
It  was  so  usual  to  make  matches  of  this  kind  on  occasions 
of  public  rejoicing,  and  marriages  of  convenience,  as  they 
are  not  unaptly  termed,  enter  so  completely  into  the  habits 
of  all  European  communities  —  perhaps  we  might  say  of  all 
old  communities  —  that  common  opinion  would  not  have 
been  violently  outraged  had  it  been  known  that  the  chosen 
pair  saw  each  other  for  the  second  or  third  time  in  the  pro¬ 
cession,  and  that  they  had  now  presented  themselves  to  take 
the  nuptial  vow,  as  it  were,  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  or 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


218 


beat  of  drum.  Still,  it  was  more  usual  to  consult  the  incli¬ 
nations  of  the  parties,  since  it  gave  greater  zest  to  the  cere¬ 
mony,  and  these  selections  of  couples  on  public  occasions 
were  generally  supposed  to  have  more  than  the  common 
interest  of  marriages,  since  they  were  believed  to  be  the 
means  of  uniting,  through  the  agency  of  the  rich  and 
powerful,  those  whom  poverty  or  other  adverse  circum¬ 
stances  had  hitherto  kept  asunder.  Rumor  spoke  of  many 
an  inexorable  father  who  had  listened  to  reason  from  the 
mouths  of  the  great,  rather  than  balk  the  public  humor  ; 
and  thousands  of  pining  hearts,  among  the  obscure  and  sim¬ 
ple,  are  even  now  gladdened  at  the  approach  of  some 
joyous  ceremony,  which  is  expected  to  throw  open  the 
gates  of  the  prison  to  the  debtor  and  the  criminal,  or  that 
of  Hymen  to  those  who  are  richer  in  constancy  and  affec¬ 
tion  than  in  any  other  stores. 

A  general  murmur  and  a  common  movement  betrayed 
the  lively  interest  of  the  spectators,  as  the  principal  and 
'  real  actors  in  this  portion  of  the  ceremonies  drew  near. 
Adelheid  felt  a  warm  glow  on  her  cheek,  and  a  gentler 
flow  of  kindness  at  her  heart  when  her  eye  first  caught  a 
view  of  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  whom  she  was  fain  to 
believe  a  faithful  pair  that  a  cruel  fortune  had  hitherto  kept 
separate,  and  who  were  now  willing  to  brave  such  strictures 
as  all  must  encounter  who  court  public  attention,  in  order 
to  receive  the  reward  of  their  enduring  love  and  self-denial. 
This  sympathy,  which  was  at  first  rather  of  an  abstract  and 
vague  nature,  finding  its  support  chiefly  in  her  own  peculiar 
situation  and  the  qualities  of  her  gentle  nature,  became  in¬ 
tensely  heightened,  however,  when  she  got  a  better  view  of 
the  bride.  The  modest  mien,  abashed  eye,  and  difficult 
breathing  of  the  girl,  whose  personal  charms  were  of  an  or¬ 
der  much  superior  to  those  which  usually  distinguish  rustic 
beauty  in  those  countries  in  which  females  are  not  exempted 
from  the  labors  of  the  field,  were  so  natural  and  winning  as 
to  awaken  all  her  interest ;  and,  wdtli  instinctive  quickness, 
the  lady  of  Willading  bent  her  look  on  the  bridegroom,  in 
order  to  see  if  one  whose  appearance  was  so  eloquent  in 
her  favor  was  likely  to  be  happy  in  her  choice.  In  age, 


214 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


personal  appearance,  and  apparently  in  condition  of  life, 
there  was  no  very  great  unfitness,  though  Adelheid  fancied 
that  the  mien  of  the  maiden  announced  a  better  breeding 
than  that  of  her  companion  —  a  difference  which  she  was 
willing  to  ascribe,  however,  to  a  greater  aptitude  in  her  own 
sex  to  receive  the  first  impress  of  the  moral  seal,  than  that 
which  belongs  to  man. 

u  She  is  fair,”  whispered  Adelheid,  slightly  bending  her 
head  towards  Sigismund,  who  stood  at  her  side,  “  and  must 
deserve  her  happiness.” 

“  She  is  good,  and  merits  a  better  fate  !  ”  muttered  the 
youth,  breathing  so  hard  as  to  render  his  respiration  audi¬ 
ble. 

The  startled  Adelheid  raised  her  eyes,  and  strong  but 
suppressed  agitation  was  quivering  in  every  lineament  of 
her  companion’s  countenance.  The  attention  of  those  near 
was  so  closely  drawn  towards  the  procession,  as  to  allow  an 
instant  of  unobserved  communication. 

“  Sigismund,  this  is  thy  sister  !  ” 

“  God  so  cursed  her.” 

“  Why  has  an  occasion,  public  as  this,  been  chosen  to  wed 
a  maiden  of  her  modesty  and  manner  ?  ” 

“  Can  the  daughter  of  Balthazar  be  squeamish  ?  Gold, 
the  interest  of  the  abbaye,  and  the  foolish  eclat  of  this  silly 
scene,  have  enabled  my  father  to  dispose  of  his  child  to  yon¬ 
der  mercenary,  who  has  bargained  like  a  Jew  in  the  affair, 
and  who,  among  other  conditions,  has  required  that  the  true 
name  of  his  bride  shall  never  be  revealed.  Are  we  not 
honored  by  a  connection  which  repudiates  us  even  before  it 
is  formed  !  ” 

The  hollow,  stifled  laugh  of  the  young  man  thrilled  on  the 
nerves  of  his  listener,  and  she  ceased  the  stolen  dialogue  to 
return  to  the  subject  at  a  more  favorable  moment.  In  the 
mean  time  the  procession  had  reached  the  station  in  front  of 
the  stage,  where  the  mummers  had  already  commenced  their 
rites. 

A  dozen  groomsmen  and  as  many  female  attendants 
accompanied  the  pair  who  were  about  to  take  the  nuptial 
vow.  Behind  these  came  the  trousseau  and  the  corbeille  ; 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


215 


the  first  being  that  portion  of  the  dowry  of  the  bride  which 
applies  to  her  personal  wants,  and  the  last  is  an  offering  of 
the  husband,  and  is  figuratively  supposed  to  be  a  pledge  of 
the  strength  of  his  passion.  In  the  present  instance  the 
trousseau  was  so  ample,  and  betokened  so  much  liberality, 
as  well  as  means,  on  the  part  of  the  friends  of  a  maiden  who 
would  consent  to  become  a  wife  in  a  ceremony  so  public,  as 
to  create  general  surprise  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  soli¬ 
tary  chain  of  gold,  of  rustic  fashion,  and  far  more  in  conso¬ 
nance  with  the  occasion,  was  the  sole  tribute  of  the  swain. 
This  difference  between  the  liberality  of  the  friends  of  the 
bride,  and  that  of  the  individual,  who,  judging  from  ap¬ 
pearances,  had  much  the  most  reason  to  show  his  satis¬ 
faction,  did  not  fail  to  give  rise  to  many  comments.  They 
ended,  as  most  comments  do,  by  deductions  drawn  against 
the  weaker  and  least  defended  of  the  parties.  The  general 
conclusion  was  so  uncharitable  as  to  infer  that  a  girl  thus 
bestowed  must  be  under  peculiar  disadvantages,  else  would 
there  have  been  a  greater  equality  between  the  gifts  ;  an 
inference  that  was  sufficiently  true,  though  cruelly  unjust  to 
its  modest  but  unconscious  subject. 

While  speculations  of  this  nature  were  rife  among  the 
spectators,  the  actors  in  the  ceremony  began  their  dances, 
which  were  distinguished  by  the  quaint  formality  that  be 
longed  to  the  politeness  of  the  age.  The  songs  that  sue 
ceeded  were  in  honor  of  Hymen  and  his  votaries,  and  a  fev» 
couplets  that  extolled  the  virtues  and  beauty  of  the  brid^ 
were  chanted  in  chorus.  A  sweep  appeared  at  the  chimney- 
top,  raising  his  cry,  in  allusion  to  the  business  of  the  me¬ 
nage,  and  then  all  moved  away,  as  had  been  done  by  those 
who  had  preceded  them.  A  guard  of  halberdiers  closed  the 
procession. 

That  part  of  the  mummeries  which  was  to  be  enacted  in 
front  of  the  estrade  was  now  ended  for  the  moment,  and  the 
different  groups  proceeded  to  various  other  stations  in  the 
town,  where  the  ceremonies  were  to  be  repeated  for  the 
benefit  of  those  who,  by  reason  of  the  throng,  had  not  been 
able  to  get  a  near  view  of  what  had  passed  in  the  square. 
Most  of  the  privileged  profited  by  the  pause  to  leave  theii 


216 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


seats,  and  to  seek  such  relaxation  as  the  confinement  ren¬ 
dered  agreeable.  Among  those  who  entirely  quitted  the 
square  were  the  bailiff  and  his  friends,  who  strolled  towards 
the  promenade  on  the  lake-shore,  holding  discourse,  in  which 
there  was  blended  much  facetious  merriment  concerning 
what  they  had  just  seen. 

The  bailiff  soon  drew  his  companions  around  him,  in  a 
deep  discussion  of  the  nature  of  the  games,  during  which 
the  Signor  Grimaldi  betrayed  a  malicious  pleasure  in  lead¬ 
ing  on  the  dogmatic  Peter  to  expose  the  confusion  that 
existed  in  liis  head  touching  the  characters  of  sacred  and 
profane  history.  Even  Adelheid  was  compelled  to  laugh  at 
the  commencement  of  this  ludicrous  exhibition,  but  her 
thoughts  were  not  long  in  recurring  to  a  subject  in  which 
she  felt  a  nearer  and  a  more  tender  interest.  Sigismund 
walked  thoughtfully  at  her  side,  and  she  profited  by  the 
attention  of  all  around  them  being  drawn  to  the  laughable 
dialogue  just  mentioned,  to  renew  the  subject  that  had  been 
so  lightly  touched  on  before. 

44 1  hope  thy  fair  and  modest  sister  will  never  have  reason 
to  repent  her  choice,”  she  said,  lessening  her  speed  in  a 
manner  to  widen  the  distance  between  herself  and  those 
she  did  not  wish  to  overhear  the  words,  while  it  brought 
her  nearer  to  Sigismund ;  44  ’tis  a  frightful  violence  to.  all 
maiden  feeling  to  be  thus  dragged  before  the  eyes  of  the 
curious  and  vulgar,  in  a  scene  trying  and  solemn  as  that  in 
which  she  plights  her  marriage  vows  !  ” 

44  Poor  Christine  !  her  fate  from  infancy  has  been  piti¬ 
able.  A  purer  or  milder  spirit  than  hers,  one  that  more 
sensitively  shrinks  from  rude  collision,  does  not  exist ;  and 
yet,  on  whichever  side  she  turns  her  eyes,  she  meets  with 
appalling  prejudices  or  opinions  to  drive  a  gentle  nature 
like  hers  to  madness.  It  may  be  a  misfortune,  Adelheid, 
to  want  instruction,  and  to  be  fated  to  pass  a  life  in  the 
depths  of  ignorance,  and  in  the  indulgence  of  brutal  pas¬ 
sions,  but  it  is  scarcely  a  blessing  to  have  the  mind  elevated 
above  the  tasks  which  a  cruel  and  selfish  world  so  fre¬ 
quently  imposes.” 

44  Thou  wast  speaking  of  thy  mild  and  excellent 
sister  ”  — 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


217 


“  Well  hast  thou  described  her  !  Christine  is  mild,  and 
more  than  modest  —  she  is  meek.  But  what  can  meekness 
itself  do  to  palliate  such  a  calamity  ?  Desirous  of  averting 
the  stigma  of  his  family  from  all  he  could  with  prudence, 
my  father  caused  my  sister,  like  myself,  to  be  early  taken 
from  the  parental  home.  She  was  given  in  charge  to 
strangers,  under  such  circumstances  of  secrecy,  as  left  her 
long,  perhaps  too  long,  in  ignorance  of  the  stock  from  which 
she  sprang.  When  maternal  pride  led  my  mother  to  seek 
her  daughter’s  society,  the  mind  of  Christine  was  in  some 
measure  formed,  and  she  had  to  endure  the  humiliation  of 
learning  that  she  was  one  of  a  family  proscribed.  Her 
gentle  spirit,  however,  soon  became  reconciled  to  the  truth, 
at  least  so  far  as  human  observation  could  penetrate,  and, 
from  the  moment  of  the  first  terrible  agony,  no  one  has 
heard  her  murmur  at  the  stern  decree  of  Providence.  The 
resignation  of  that  mild  girl  has  ever  been  a  reproach  to  my 
own  rebellious  temper,  for,  Adelheid,  I  cannot  conceal  the 
truth  from  thee  —  I  have  cursed  all  that  I  dared  include  in 
my  wicked  imprecations,  in  very  madness  at  this  blight  on 
my  hopes  !  Nay,  I  have  even  accused  my  father  of  injus¬ 
tice,  that  he  did  not  train  me  at  the  side  of  the  block,  that 
I  might  take  a  savage  pride  in  that  which  is  now  the  bane 
of  my  existence.  Not  so  with  Christine ;  she  has  always 
warmly  returned  the  affection  of  our  parents,  as  a  daughter 
should  love  the  authors  of  her  being,  while  I  fear  I  have 
been  repining  when  I  should  have  loved.  Our  origin  is  a 
curse  entailed  by  the  ruthless  laws  of  the  land,  and  it  is 
not  to  be  attributed  to  any,  at  least  to  none  of  these  later 
days,  as  a  fault ;  and  such  has  ever  been  the  language  of 
my  poor  sister  when  she  has  seen  a  merit  in  their  wishes 
to  benefit  us  at  the  expense  of  their  own  natural  affection. 
I  would  I  could  imitate  her  reason  and  resignation  !  ” 

“  The  view  taken  by  thy  sister  is  that  of  a  female,  Sigis- 
mund,  whose  heart  is  stronger  than  her  pride ;  and,  what  is 
mo*e,  it  is  just.” 

“I  deny  it  not;  ’tis  just.  But  the  ill-judged  mercy  has 
forever  disqualified  me  to  sympathize  as  I  could  wish  with 
those  to  whom  I  belong.  ’Tis  an  error  to  draw  these 


218 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


broad  distinctions  between  our  habit  and  our  affections. 
Creatures  stern  as  soldiers  cannot  bend  their  fancies  like 
pliant  twigs,  or  with  the  facility  of  female  ”  — 

“  Duty,”  said  Adelheid  gravely,  observing  that  he  hesi¬ 
tated. 

“  If  thou  wilt,  duty.  The  word  has  great  weight  with 
thy  sex,  and  I  do  not  question  that  it  should  have  with 
mine.” 

“  Thou  canst  not  be  wanting  in  affection  for  thy  father, 
Sigismund.  The  manner  in  which  thou  interposedst  to 
save  his  life,  when  we  were  in  that  fearful  jeopardy  of  the 
tempest,  disproves  thy  words.” 

“  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  be  wanting  in  natural  feel¬ 
ing  of  this  sort,  and  yet,  Adelheid,  it  is  horrible  not  to  be 
able  to  respect,  to  love  profoundly,  those  to  whom  we  owe 
our  existence  !  Christine  in  this  is  far  happier  than  I,  an 
advantage  that  I  doubt  not  she  owes  to  her  simple  life,  and 
to  the  closer  intimacies  which  unite  females.  I  am  the  son 
of  a  headsman  ;  that  bitter  fact  is  never  absent  from  my 
thoughts  when  they  turn  to  home  and  those  scenes  in  which 
I  could  so  gladly  take  pleasure.  Balthazar  may  have 
meant  a  kindness  when  he  caused  me  to  be  trained  in  habits 
so  different  from  his  own,  but,  to  complete  the  good  work, 
the  veil  should  never  have  been  removed.” 

Adelheid  was  silent.  Though  she  understood  the  feel¬ 
ings  which  controlled  one  educated  so  very  differently  from 
those  to  whom  he  owed  his  birth,  her  habits  of  thought 
were  opposed  to  the  indulgence  of  any  reflections  that  could 
unsettle  the  reverence  of  the  child  for  its  parent. 

“  One  of  a  heart  like  thine,  Sigismund,  cannot  hate  his 
mother !  ”  she  said,  after  a  pause. 

“  In  this  thou  dost  me  no  more  than  justice  ;  my  words 
have  ill  represented  my  thoughts,  if  they  have  left  such  an 
impression.  In  cooler  moments,  I  have  never  considered 
my  birth  as  more  than  a  misfortune,  and  my  education  I 
deem  a  reason  for  additional  respect  and  gratitude  to  my 
parents,  though  it  may  have  disqualified  me  in  some  measure 
to  enter  deeply  into  their  feelings.  Christine  herself  is  not 
more  true,  nor  of  more  devoted  love,  than  my  poor  mother. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


219 


It  is  necessary,  Adelheid,  to  see  and  know  that  excellent 
woman  in  order  to  understand  all  the  wrongs  that  the 
world  inflicts  by  its  ruthless  usages.” 

“  We  will  now  speak  only  of  thy  sister.  Has  she  been 
here  bestowed  without  regard  to  her  own  wishes,  Sigis- 
mund  ?  ” 

“  I  hope  not.  Christine  is  meek,  but,  while  neither  word 
nor  look  betrays  the  weakness,  still  she  feels  the  load  that 
crushes  us  both.  She  has  long  accustomed  herself  to  look 
at  all  her  own  merits  through  the  medium  of  this  debase¬ 
ment,  and  has  set  too  low  a  value  on  her  own  excellent 
qualities.  Much,  very  much,  depends,  in  this  life,  on  our 
own  habits  of  self-estimation,  Adelheid ;  for  he  who  is  pre¬ 
pared  to  admit  unworthiness  —  I  speak  not  of  demerit 
towards  God  but  towards  men  —  will  soon  become  accus¬ 
tomed  to  familiarity  with  a  standard  below  his  just  preten¬ 
sions,  and  will  end  perhaps  in  being  the  thing  he  dreaded. 
Such  has  been  the  consequence  of  Christine’s  knowledge  of 
her  birth,  for,  to  her  meek  spirit,  there  is  an  appearance  of 
generosity,  in  overlooking  this  grand  defect,  and  it  has  too 
well  prepared  her  mind  to  endow  the  youth  with  a  hun¬ 
dred  more  of  the  qualities  that  are  absolutely  necessary  to 
her  esteem,  but  which  I  fear  exist  only  in  her  own  warm 
fancy.” 

“  This  is  touching  on  the  most  difficult  branch  of  human 
knowledge,”  returned  Adelheid,  smiling  sweetly  on  the 
agitated  brother;  “a  just  appreciation  of  ourselves.  If 
there  is  danger  of  setting  too  low  a  value  on  our  merits, 
there  is  also  some  danger  of  setting  too  high ;  though  I 
perfectly  comprehend  the  difference  you  would  make 
between  vulgar  vanity,  and  that  self-respect  which  is  cer¬ 
tainly  in  some  degree  necessary  to  success.  But  one,  like 
her  thou  hast  described,  would  scarce  yield  her  affections 
without  good  reason  to  think  them  well  bestowed.” 

“  Adelheid,  thou,  who  hast  never  felt  the  world’s  con¬ 
tempt,  cannot  understand  how  winning  respect  and  esteem 
can  be  made  to  those  who  pine  beneath  its  weight !  My 
sister  hath  so  long  accustomed  herself  to  think  meanly  of 
her  hopes,  that  the  appearance  of  liberality  and  justice  in 


220 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


this  youth  would  have  been  sufficient  of  itself  to  soften  her 
feelings  in  his  favor.  I  cannot  say  I  think  —  for  Christine 
will  soon  be  his  wife  —  but  will  say,  I  fear  that  the  simple 
fact  of  his  choosing  one  that  the  world  persecutes  has  given 
him  a  value  in  her  eyes  he  might  not  otherwise  have  pos¬ 
sessed.” 

“  Thou  dost  not  appear  to  approve  of  thy  sister’s 
choice  ?  ” 

“  I  know  the  details  of  the  disgusting  bargain  better  than 
poor  Christine,”  answered  the  young  man,  speaking  be¬ 
tween  his  teeth,  like  one  who  repressed  bitter  emotion.  “  I 
was  privy  to  the  greedy  exactions  on  the  one  side,  and  to 
the  humiliating  concessions  on  the  other.  Even  money 
could  not  buy  this  boon  for  Balthazar’s  child,  without  a  con¬ 
dition  that  the  ineffaceable  stigma  of  her  birth  should  be 
forever  concealed.” 

Adelheid  saw,  by  the  cold  perspiration  that  stood  on  the 
brow  of  Sigismund,  how  intensely  he  suffered,  and  she 
sought  an  immediate  occasion  to  lead  his  thoughts  to  a  less 
disturbing  subject.  With  the  readiness  of  her  sex,  and 
with  the  sensitiveness  and  delicacy  of  a  woman  that  sin¬ 
cerely  loved,  she  found  means  to  effect  the  charitable  pur¬ 
pose,  without  again  alarming  his  pride.  She  succeeded  so 
far  in  calming  his  feelings,  that,  when  they  rejoined  their 
companions,  the  manner  of  the  young  man  had  entirely 
regained  the  quiet  and  proud  composure  in  which  he 
appeared  to  take  refuge  against  the  consciousness  of  the  blot 
that  darkened  his  hopes,  frequently  rendering  life  itself  a 
burden  nearly  too  heavy  to  be  borne. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


221 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Come  apace,  good  Audrey,  I  will  fetch  up  your  goats,  Audrey.  And  how, 
Audrey?  am  I  the  man  yet?  Doth  my  simple  features  content  you? 

As  You  Like  It. 

While  the  mummeries  related  were  exhibiting  in  the 
great  square,  Maso,  Pippo,  Conrad,  and  the  others  concerned 
in  the  little  disturbance  connected  with  the  affair  of  the 
dog,  were  eating  their  discontent  within  the  walls  of  the 
guard-house.  Vevey  had  several  squares,  and  the  various 
ceremonies  of  the  gods  and  demigods  were  now  to  be  re¬ 
peated  in  the  smaller  areas.  On  one  of  the  latter  stands 
the  town-house  and  prison.  The  offenders  in  question  had 
been  summarily  transferred  to  the  jail,  in  obedience  to  the 
command  of  the  officer  charged  with  the  preservation  of  the 
peace.  By  an  act  of  grace,  however,  that  properly  belonged 
to  the  day  as  well  as  to  the  character  of  the  offense,  the 
prisoners  were  permitted  to  occupy  a  part  of  the  edifice  that 
commanded  a  view  of  the  square,  and  consequently  were  not 
precluded  from  all  participation  in  the  joyousness  of  the 
festivities.  This  indulgence  had  been  accorded  on  the  con- 
dition  that  the  parties  should  cease  their  wrangling,  and 
otherwise  conduct  themselves  in  a  way  not  to  bring  scandal 
on  the  exhibition  in  which  the  pride  of  every  Vevaisan  was 
so  deeply  enlisted.  All  the  captives,  the  innocent  as  well 
as  the  guilty,  gladly  subscribed  to  the  terms ;  for  they  found 
themselves  in  a  temporary  duresse  which  did  not  admit  of 
any  fair  argument  of  the  merits  of  the  case,  and  there  is  no 
leveler  so  effectual  as  a  common  misfortune. 

The  anger  of  Maso,  though  sudden  and  violent,  the  effect 
of  a  hot  temperament,  had  quickly  subsided  in  a  calm  which 
more  probably  belonged  to  his  education  and  opinions,  in 
all  of  which  he  was  much  superior  to  his  profligate  antago- 


222 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


nist.  Contempt,  therefore,  soon  took  the  place  of  resent¬ 
ment  ;  and  though  too  much  accustomed  to  rude  contact 
with  men  of  the  pilgrim’s  class  to  be  ashamed  of  what  had 
occurred,  the  mariner  strove  to  forget  the  occurrence.  It 
was  one  of  those  moral  disturbances  to  which  he  was 
scarcety  less  used,  than  he  was  accustomed  to  encounter 
physical  contests  of  the  elements  like  that  in  which  he  had 
lately  rendered  so  essential  service  on  the  Leman. 

“  Give  me  thy  hand,  Conrad,”  he  said,  with  the  frank 
forgiveness  which  is  apt  to  distinguish  the  reconciliation  of 
men  who  pass  their  lives  amid  the  violent,  but  sometimes 
ennobling  scenes  of  adventure  and  lawlessness.  “  Thou 
hast  thy  humors  and  habits,  and  I  have  mine.  If  thou 
findest  this  traffic  in  penances  and  prayers  to  thy  fancy,  fol¬ 
low  the  trade,  of  Heaven’s  sake,  and  leave  me  and  my  dog 
to  live  by  other  means.” 

“  Thou  ought’st  to  have  bethought  thee  how  much  reason 
we  pilgrims  have  to  prize  the  mastiffs  of  the  mountain,” 
answered  Conrad,  “  and  how  likely  it  was  to  stir  my  blood 
to  see  another  cur  devouring  that  which  was  intended  for 
old  Uberto.  Thou  hast  never  toiled  up  the  sides  of  St. 
Bernard,  friend  Maso,  loaded  with  the  sins  of  a  whole 
parish,  to  say  nothing  of  thine  own,  and  therefore  canst  not 
know  the  value  of  these  brutes,  who  so  often  stand  between 
us  pilgrims  and  a  grave  of  snow.” 

II  Maledetto  smiled  grimly,  and  muttered  a  sentence 
bet  ween  his  teeth  ;  for,  in  perfect  consonance  with  the  frank 
lawlessness  of  his  own  life,  there  was  a  reckless  honesty  in 
his  nature,  which  caused  him  to  despise  hypocrisy  as  un¬ 
worthy  of  the  bold  attributes  of  manhood. 

“  Have  it  as  thou  wilt,  pious  Conrad,”  he  said  sneeringly, 
“  so  there  be  peace  between  us.  I  am,  as  thou  knowest,  an 
Italian,  and  though  we  of  the  south  seek  revenge  occasion¬ 
ally  of  those  who  wrong  us,  it  is  not  often  that  we  do  vio¬ 
lence  after  giving  a  willing  palm  —  I  trust  ye  of  Germany 
are  no  less  honest  ?  ” 

“  May  the  Virgin  be  deaf  to  every  ave  I  have  sworn 
to  repeat,  and  the  good  fathers  of  Loretto  refuse  absolution, 
if  I  think  more  of  it !  ’Twas  but  the  gripe  of  a  throat,  and 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


223 


I  am  not  so  tender  in  that  part  of  the  body  as  to  fear  it  is 
to  be  the  forerunner  of  a  closer  squeeze.  Didst  ever  hear 
of  a  churchman  that  suffered  in  this  way  ?  ” 

“  Men  often  escape  with  less  than  their  deserts,”  Maso 
dryly  answered.  “  Well,  fortune,  or  the  saints,  or  Calvin, 
or  whatever  power  most  suits  your  tastes,  good  friends,  has 
at  length  put  a  roof  over  our  heads,  —  an  honor  that  rarely 
arrives  to  most  of  us,  if  I  may  judge  by  appearances  and 
some  little  knowledge  of  the  different  trades  we  follow. 
Thou  wilt  have  a  fair  occasion  to  suffer  Policinello  to  rest 
from  his  uneasy  antics,  Pippo,  while  his  master  breathes  the 
air  through  a  window  for  the  first  time  in  many  a  day,  as  I 
will  answer.” 

The  Neapolitan  had  no  difficulty  in  laughing  at  this 
sally ;  for  his  was  a  nature  that  took  all  things  pleasantly, 
though  it  took  nothing  under  the  corrective  of  principle  or 
a  respect  for  the  rights  of  others. 

“  Were  this  Napoli,  with  her  gentle  sky  and  hot  volcano,” 
he  said,  smiling  at  the  allusion,  u  no  one  would  have  less 
relish  for  a  roof  than  myself.” 

“  Thou  wast  born  beneath  the  arch  of  some  Duca’s  gate¬ 
way,”  returned  Maso,  with  a  sort  of  reckless  sarcasm,  that 
as  often  cut  his  friends  as  his  enemies ;  “  thou  wilt  probably 
die  in  the  hospital  of  the  poor,  and  wilt  surely  be  shot  from 
the  death-cart  into  one  of  the  daily  holes  of  thy  Campo 
Santo,  among  a  goodly  company  of  Christians,  in  which 
arms  and  legs  will  be  thrown  at  random  like  jack-straws, 
and  the  wisest  among  ye  all  will  be  puzzled  to  tell  his  own 
limbs  from  those  of  his  neighbors,  at  the  sound  of  the  last 
trumpet.” 

“  Am  I  a  dog,  to  meet  this  end  !  ”  demanded  Pippo, 
fiercely,  “  or  that  I  should  not  know  my  own  bones  from 
those  of  some  infidel  rascal,  who  may  happen  to  be  my 
neighbor  ?  ” 

“  We  have  had  one  disturbance  about  brutes,  let  us  not 
have  another,”  sarcastically  rejoined  II  Maledetto.  “  Princes 
and  nobles,”  he  added,  with  affected  gravity,  “  we  are  here 
bound  by  the  heels,  during  the  good  pleasure  of  those  who 
rule  in  Vevey  ;  the  wisest  course  will  be  to  pass  the  time 


224 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


in  good-humor  with  each  other,  and  as  pleasantly  as  our 
condition  will  allow.  The  reverend  Conrad  shall  have  all 
the  honors  of  a  cardinal,  Pippo  shall  have  the  led  horse  at 
his  funeral,  and,  as  for  these  worthy  Vaudois,  who,  nr 
doubt,  are  men  of  substance  in  their  way,  they  shall  be 
bailiffs  sent  by  Berne  to  rule  between  the  four  walls  of  our 
palace  !  Life  is  but  a  graver  sort  of  mummery,  gentlemen, 
and  the  second  of  its  rarest  secrets  is  to  make  others  fancy 
us  what  we  wish  to  appear  —  the  first  being,  without  ques¬ 
tion,  the  faculty  of  deceiving  ourselves.  Now  each  one  has 
only  to  imagine  that  he  is  the  high  personage  I  have  just 
named,  and  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  work  is  achieved 
to  his  hands.” 

“  Thou  hast  forgotten  to  name  thine  own  quality,”  cried 
Pippo,  who  was  too  much  used  to  buffoonery  not  to  relish 
the  whim  of  Maso,  and  who,  with  Neapolitan  fickleness, 
forgot  his  anger  the  instant  he  had  given  it  vent. 

“  I  will  represent  the  sapient  public,  and,  being  well  dis¬ 
posed  to  be  duped,  the  whole  job  is  complete.  Practice 
away,  worthies,  and  ye  shall  see  with  what  open  eyes  and 
wide  gullet  I  am  ready  to  admire  and  swallow  all  your  phi¬ 
losophy.” 

This  sally  produced  a  hearty  laugh,  which  rarely  fails  to 
establish  momentary  good-fellowship.  The  Vaudois,  who 
had  the  thirsty  propensities  of  mountaineers,  ordered  wine, 
and,  as  their  guardians  looked  upon  their  confinement  more 
as  a  measure  of  temporary  policy  than  of  serious  moment, 
the  command  was  obeyed.  In  a  short  time,  this  little  group 
of  worldlings  were  making  the  best  of  circumstances,  by 
calling  in  the  aid  of  physical  stimulants  to  cheer  their  soli¬ 
tude.  As  they  washed  their  throats  with  the  liquor,  which 
was  both  good  and  cheap,  and  by  consequence  doubly  agree¬ 
able,  the  true  characters  of  the  different  individuals  began 
to  show  themselves  in  stronger  colors. 

The  peasants  of  Vaud,  of  whom  there  were  three,  and  all 
of  the  lowest  class,  became  confused  and  dull  in  their  facul¬ 
ties  though  louder  and  more  vehement  in  speech,  each  man 
appearing  to  balance  the  increasing  infirmities  of  his  reason 
by  stronger  physical  demonstrations  of  folly. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


225 


Conrad,  the  pilgrim,  threw  aside  the  mask  entirely,  if 
indeed  so  thin  a  veil  as  that  he  ordinarily  wore  when  not  in 
the  presence  of  his  employers  deserved  such  a  name,  and 
appeared  the  miscreant  he  truly  was,  — a  strange  admixture 
of  cowardly  superstition  (for  few  meddle  with  superstition 
without  getting  more  or  less  entangled  in  its  meshes),  of 
low  cunning,  and  of  the  most  abject  and  gross  sensuality  and 
vice.  The  invention  and  wit  of  Pippo,  at  all  times  ready 
and  ingenious,  gained  increased  powers,  but  the  torrent  of 
animal  spirits  that  were  let  loose  by  his  potations  swept  be¬ 
fore  it  all  reserve,  and  he  scarce  opened  his  mouth  but  to 
betray  the  thoughts  of  a  man  long  practiced  in  frauds  and 
all  other  evil  designs  on  the  rights  of  his  fellow-creatures. 
On  Maso  the  wine  produced  an  effect  that  might  almost  be 
termed  characteristic,  and  which  it  is  in  some  sort  germane 
to  the  moral  of  the  tale  to  describe. 

II  Maledetto  had  indulged  freely  and  with  apparent  reck¬ 
lessness  in  the  frequent  draughts.  He  was  long  familiarized 
to  the  habits  of  this  wild  and  uncouth  fellowship,  and  a  sin¬ 
gular  sentiment,  that  men  of  his  class  choose  to  call  honor, 
and  which  perhaps  deserves  the  name  as  much  as  half  of 
the  principles  that  are  described  by  the  same  appellation, 
prevented  him  from  refusing  to  incur  an  equal  risk  in  the 
common  assault  on  their  faculties,  inducing  him  to  swallow 
his  full  share  of  the  intoxicating  fluid  as  the  cup  passed  from 
one  reeking  mouth  to  another.  He  liked  the  wine,  too,  and 
tasted  its  perfume,  and  cherished  its  glowing  influence,  with 
the  perfect  good-will  of  a  man  who  knew  how  to  profit  by 
the  accident  which  placed  such  generous  liquor  at  his  com¬ 
mand.  He  had  also  his  designs  in  wishing  to  unmask  his 
companions,  and  he  thought  the  moment  favorable  to  such 
an  intention.  In  addition  to  these  motives,  Maso  had  his 
especial  reasons  for  being  uneasy  at  finding  himself  in  the 
hands  of  the  authorities,  and  he  was  not  sorry  to  bring  about 
a  state  of  things  that  might  lead  to  his  being  confounded 
with  the  others  in  a  group  of  vulgar  devotees  of  Bacchus. 

But  Maso  yielded  to  the  common  disposition  in  a  manner 
peculiar  to  himself.  His  eyes  became  even  more  lustrous 

than  usual,  his  face  reddened,  and  his  voice  even  grew  thick, 
15 


226 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


while  his  senses  retained  their  powers.  His  reason,  instead 
of  giving  way,  like  those  of  the  men  around  him,  rather 
brightened  under  the  excitement,  as  if  it  foresaw  the  danger 
it  incurred,  and  the  greater  necessity  there  existed  for  vigi¬ 
lance.  Though  born  in  a  southern  clime,  he  was  saturnine 
and  cold  when  unexcited,  and  such  temperaments  rather 
gain  their  tone  than  lose  their  powers  by  stimulants  under 
which  men  of  feebler  organizations  sink.  He  had  passed 
his  life  amid  wild  adventure  and  in  scenes  of  peril  which 
suited  such  a  disposition,  and  it  most  probably  required 
either  some  strong  motive  of  danger,  like  that  of  the  tempest 
on  the  Leman,  or  a  stimulant  of  another  quality,  to  draw 
out  the  latent  properties  of  his  mind,  which  so  well  fitted 
him  to  lead  when  others  were  the  most  disposed  to  follow. 
Pie  was,  therefore,  without  fear  for  himself  while  he  aroused 
his  companions  ;  and  he  was  free  of  his  purse,  which  did  not, 
however,  appear  to  be  sufficiently  stored  to  answer  very 
heavy  demands,  by  ordering  cup  after  cup  to  supply  the 
place  of  those  which  were  so  quickly  drained  to  the  dregs. 
In  this  manner  an  hour  or  two  passed  swiftly,  they  who 
were  charged  with  the  care  of  the  jolly  party  in  the  town- 
house  being  much  more  occupied  in  noting  the  festivities 
without,  than  those  within,  the  prison. 

“  Thou  hast  a  merry  life  of  it,  honest  Pippo,”  cried  Con¬ 
rad,  with  swimming  eyes,  answering  a  remark  of  the  buffoon. 
“  Thou  art  but  a  laugh  at  the  best,  and  wilt  go  through  the 
world  grinning  and  making  others  grin.  Thy  Policinello  is 
a  rare  fellow,  and  I  never  meet  one  of  thy  set  that  weary 
less  and  sore  feet  are  not  forgotten  in  his  fooleries  !  ” 

“  Corpo  di  Bacco  !  I  wish  this  were  so  ;  but  thou  hast 
much  the  best  of  the  matter,  even  in  the  way  of  amusement, 
reverend  pilgrim,  though  to  the  looker-on  it  would  seem 
otherwise.  The  difference  between  us,  pious  Conrad,  is  just 
this  —  that  thou  laughest  in  thv  sleeve  without  seeming  to 
be  merry,  whereas  I  yawn  ready  to  split  my  jaws  while  I 
seem  to  be  dying  with  fun.  Your  often-told  joke  is  a  bad 
companion,  and  gets  at  last  to  be  as  gloomy  as  a  dirge. 
Wine  can  be  swallowed  but  once,  and  laughter  will  not 
come  forever  for  the  same  folly.  Cospetto  !  I  would  give 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


227 


the  earnings  of  a  year  for  a  set  of  new  jokes,  such  as  might 
come  fresh  from  the  wit  of  one  who  never  saw  a  mounte¬ 
bank,  and  are  not  worn  threadbare  with  being  rubbed 
against  the  brains  of  all  the  jokers  in  Europe.” 

“  There  was  a  wise  man  of  old,  of  whom  it  is  not  probable 
that  any  of  you  have  ever  heard,”  observed  Maso,  “  who  has 
said  there  was  nothing  new  under  the  sun.” 

“  He  who  said  that  never  tasted  of  this  liquor,  which  is 
as  raw  as  if  it  were  still  running  from  the  press,”  rejoined 
the  pilgrim.  “  Knave,  dost  think  that  we  are  unknowing 
in  these  matters,  that  thou  darest  bring  a  pot  of  such  lees  to 
men  of  our  quality  ?  Go  to,  and  see  that  thou  doest  us 
better  justice  in  the  next !  ” 

“  The  wine  is  the  same  as  that  which  first  pleased  you, 
but  it  is  the  nature  of  drunkenness  to  change  the  palate  ; 
and  therein  Solomon  was  right  as  in  all  other  points,”  coolly 
remarked  II  Maledetto.  “  Nay,  friend,  thou  wilt  scarce 
bring  thy  liquors  again  to  those  who  do  not  know  how  to 
do  them  proper  honor.” 

Maso  thrust  the  lad  who  served  them  from  the  room,  and 
he  slipped  a  small  coin  into  his  hand,  ordering  him  not  to 
return.  Inebriety  had  made  sufficient  ravages  for  his  ends, 
and  he  was  now  desirous  of  stopping  further  excesses. 

“  Here  come  the  mummers  —  gods  and  goddesses,  shep¬ 
herds  and  their  lasses,  and  all  the  other  pleasantries  to  keep 
us  in  humor  !  To  do  these  Vevaisans  justice,  they  treat  us 
rarely ;  for  ye  see  they  send  their  players  to  amuse  our  re¬ 
tirement  !  ” 

“  Wine  !  liquor  !  raw  or  ripe,  bring  us  liquor  !  ”  roared 
Conrad,  Pippo,  and  their  pot-companions,  who  were  much 
too  drunk  to  detect  the  agency  of  Maso  in  defeating  their 
wishes,  though  they  were  just  drunk  enough  to  fancy  that 
what  he  said  of  the  attention  of  the  authorities  was  not  only 
true  but  merited. 

“  How  now,  Pippo  !  art  ashamed  to  be  outdone  in  thine 
own  craft,  that  thou  bellowest  for  wine  at  the  moment  when 
the  actors  have  come  into  the  square  to  exhibit  their  skill  ?  ” 
cried  the  mariner.  “  Truly,  we  shall  have  a  mean  opinion 
of  thy  merit,  if  thou  art  afraid  to  meet  a  few  Yaudois  peas¬ 
ants  in  thy  trade,  —  and  thou  a  buffoon  of  Napoli !  ” 


228 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Pippo  swore  with  pot-oaths  that  he  defied  the  cleverest 
of  Switzerland  ;  for  that  he  had  not  only  acted  on  every 
mall  and  mole  of  Italy,  but  that  he  had  exhibited  in  private 
before  princes  and  cardinals,  and  that  he  had  no  superior  on 
either  side  of  the  Alps.  Maso  profited  by  his  advantage, 
and,  by  applying  fresh  goads  to  his  vanity,  soon  succeeded 
in  causing  him  to  forget  the  wine,  and  in  drawing  him,  with 
all  the  others,  to  the  windows. 

The  processions,  in  making  the  circuit  of  the  city,  had 
now  reached  the  square  of  the  town-house,  where  the  acting 
and  exhibition  were  repeated,  as  has  been  already  related  in 
general  terms  to  the  reader.  There  were  the  officers  of  the 
abbaye,  the  vine-dressers,  the  shepherds  and  the  shepherd¬ 
esses,  Flora,  Ceres,  Pales,  and  Bacchus,  with  all  the  others, 
attended  by  their  several  trains,  and  borne  in  state  as  be¬ 
came  their  high  attributes.  Silenus  rolled  from  his  ass,  to 
the  great  joy  of  a  thousand  shouting  blackguards,  and  to 
the  infinite  scandal  of  the  prisoners  at  the  windows,  the  lat¬ 
ter  affirming  to  a  man  that  there  was  no  acting  in  the  case, 
but  that  the  demigod  was  shamefully  under  the  influence  of 
too  many  potations  that  had  been  swallowed  in  his  own 
honor. 

We  shall  not  go  over  the  details  of  these  scenes,  which 
all  who  have  ever  witnessed  a  public  celebration  will  readily 
imagine,  nor  is  it  necessary  to  record  the  different  sallies  of 
wit  that,  under  the  inspiration  of  the  warm  wines  of  Vevey 
and  the  excitement  of  the  revels,  issued  from  the  group 
that  clustered  around  the  windows  of  the  prison.  All  who 
have  ever  listened  to  low  humor,  that  is  rather  deadened 
than  quickened  by  liquor,  will  understand  their  character, 
and  they  who  have  not  will  scarcely  be  losers  by  the  omis¬ 
sion. 

At  length  the  different  allegories  drawn  from  the  heathen 
mythology  ended,  and  the  procession  of  the  nuptials  came 
into  the  square.  The  meek  and  gentle  Christine  had  ap¬ 
peared  nowhere  that  day  without  awakening  strong  sym¬ 
pathy  in  her  youth,  beauty,  and  apparent  innocence.  Mur¬ 
murs  of  approbation  accompanied  her  steps,  and  the  maiden, 
more  accustomed  to  her  situation,  began  to  feel,  probably 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


229 


for  the  first  time  since  she  had  known  the  secret  of  her 
origin,  something  like  that  security  which  is  an  indispensa¬ 
ble  accompaniment  of  happiness.  Long  used  to  think  of 
herself  as  one  proscribed  of  opinion,  and  educated  in  the 
retirement  suited  to  the  views  of  her  parents,  the  praises 
that  reached  her  ear  could  not  but  be  grateful,  and  they 
went  warm  and  cheeringly  to  her  heart,  in  spite  of  the  sense 
of  apprehension  and  uneasiness  that  had  so  long  harbored 
there.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the  day,  until  now,  she 
had  scarce  dared  to  turn  her  eyes  to  her  future  husband, — 
him  who,  in  her  simple  and  single-minded  judgment,  had 
braved  prejudice  to  do  justice  to  her  worth  ;  but,  as  the 
applause,  which  had  been  hitherto  suppressed,  broke  out  in 
loud  acclamations  in  the  square  of  the  town-house,  the  color 
mantled  brightly  on  her  cheek,  and  she  looked  with  modest 
pride  at  her  companion,  as  if  she  would  say  in  the  silent 
appeal,  that  his  generous  choice  would  not  go  entirely  with¬ 
out  its  reward.  The  crowd  responded  to  the  sentiment, 
and  never  did  votaries  of  Hymen  approach  the  altar  seem¬ 
ingly  under  happier  auspices. 

The  influence  of  innocence  and  beauty  is  universal. 
Even  the  unprincipled  and  half-intoxicated  prisoners  were 
loud  in  praise  of  the  gentle  Christine.  One  praised  her 
modesty,  another  extolled  her  personal  appearance,  and  all 
united  with  the  multitude  in  shouting  to  her  honor.  The 
blood  of  the  bridegroom  began  to  quicken,  and,  by  the  time 
the  train  had  halted  in  the  open  space  near  the  building, 
immediately  beneath  the  windows  occupied  by  Maso  and  his 
fellows,  he  was  looking  about  him  in  the  exultation  of  a 
vulgar  mind,  which  finds  its  delight  in,  as  it  is  apt  to  form 
its  judgments  from,  the  suffrages  of  others. 

“  Here  is  a  grand  and  beautiful  festa  !  ”  said  the  hic¬ 
coughing  Pippo,  “  and  a  most  willing  bride  !  San  Gennaro 
bless  thee,  bella  sposina,  and  the  worthy  man  who  is  the 
stem  of  so  fair  a  rose  !  Send  us  wine,  generous  groom  and 
happy  bride,  that  we  may  drink  to  the  health  of  thee  and 
thine  !  ” 

Christine  changed  color,  and  looked  furtively  around,  for 
they  who  lie  under  the  weight  of  the  world’s  displeasure, 


230 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


though  innocent,  are  sensitively  jealous  of  allusions  to  the 
sore  points  in  their  histories.  The  feeling  communicated 
itself  to  her  companion,  who  threw  distrustful  glances  at 
the  crowd,  in  order  to  ascertain  if  the  secret  of  his  bride’s 
birth  were  not  discovered. 

“  A  braver  festa  never  honored  an  Italian  corso,”  con¬ 
tinued  the  Neapolitan,  whose  head  was  running  on  his  own 
fancies,  without  troubling  itself  about  the  apprehensions  and 
wishes  of  others.  “  A  gallant  array  and  a  fair  bride  ! 
Send  us  wine,  felicissimi  sposi,  that  we  may  drink  to  your 
eternal  fame  and  happiness  !  Happy  the  father  that  calls 
thee  daughter,  bella  sposa,  and  most  honored  the  mother 
that  bare  so  excellent  a  child !  Scellerati,  ye  of  the  crowd, 
why  do  ye  not  bear  the  worthy  parents  in  your  arms,  that 
all  may  see  and  do  homage  to  the  honorable  roots  of  so  rich 
a  branch  !  Send  us  wine,  buona  gente,  send  us  cups  of 
merry  wine !  ” 

The  cries  and  the  figurative  language  of  Pippo  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  multitude,  who  were  additionally  amused 
by  the  mixture  of  dialects  in  which  he  uttered  his  appeals. 
The  least  important  trifles,  by  giving  a  new  direction  to 
popular  sympathies,  frequently  become  the  parents  of  grave 
events.  The  crowd,  which  followed  the  train  of  Hymen, 
had  begun  to  weary  with  the  repetition  of  the  same  cere¬ 
monies,  and  it  now  gladly  lent  itself  to  the  episode  of  the 
felicitations  and  entreaties  of  the  half-intoxicated  Neapol¬ 
itan. 

“  Come  forth,  and  act  the  father  of  the  happy  bride,  thy¬ 
self,  reverend  and  grave  stranger,”  cried  one  in  derision, 
from  the  throng.  “  So  excellent  an  example  will  descend 
to  thy  children’s  children,  in  blessings  on  thy  line  !  ” 

A  shout  of  laughter  rewarded  this  retort.  It  put  the 
quick-witted  Neapolitan  on  his  mettle,  to  produce  a  prompt 
and  suitable  reply. 

“  My  blessing  on  the  blushing  rose  !  ”  he  answered  in  an 
instant.  “  There  are  worse  parents  than  Pippo,  for  he  who 
lives  by  making  others  laugh  deserves  well  of  men,  whereas 
there  is  your  medico,  who  eats  the  bread  of  colics,  and 
rheumatisms,  and  other  foul  diseases,  of  which  he  pretends 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


281 


to  be  the  enemy,  though  San  Gennaro  to  aid  !  —  who  is 
there  so  silly,  as  not  to  see  that  the  knavish  doctor  and  the 
knavish  distemper  play  into  each  other’s  hands,  as  readily 
as  Policinello  and  the  monkey.” 

“  Hast  thou  another  worse  than  thyself  that  can  be 
named  ?  ”  cried  he  of  the  crowd. 

A  score,  and  thou  shalt  be  of  the  number.  My  bless¬ 
ing  on  the  fair  bride  !  thrice  happy  is  she  that  hath  a  right 
to  receive  the  benediction  from  one  of  so  honest  life  as  the 
merry  Pippo.  Speak  not  I  the  truth,  figliola  ?  ” 

Christine  perceived  that  the  hand  of  her  companion  was 
coldly  releasing  her  own,  and  she  felt  the  creeping  sensation 
of  the  blood  which  is  the  common  attendant  of  extreme  and 
humiliating  shame.  Still  she  bore  up  against  the  weakness, 
with  that  deep  reliance  on  the  justice  of  others  which  is 
usually  the  most  strongly  seated  in  those  who  are  the  most 
innocent ;  and  she  followed  the  procession,  in  its  circuit, 
with  a  step  whose  trembling  was  mistaken  for  no  more  than 
the  embarrassment  natural  to  her  situation. 

At  this  moment,  as  the  mummers  were  wheeling  past  the 
town-house,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  music,  while  a  gen¬ 
eral  movement  stirred  the  multitude,  a  cry  of  alarm  arose  in 
the  building.  It  was  immediately  succeeded  by  such  a  rush 
of  bodies  towards  the  spot,  as  indicates,  in  a  throng,  a  sudden 
and  general  interest  in  some  new  and  extraordinary  event. 

The  crowd  was  beaten  back  and  dispersed,  the  procession 
had  disappeared,  and  there  was  an  unusual  appearance  of 
activity  and  mystery  among  the  officials  of  the  place,  before 
the  cause  of  this  disturbance  began  to  be  whispered  among 
the  few  who  remained  in  the  square.  The  rumor  ran  that 
one  of  the  prisoners,  an  athletic  Italian  mariner,  had  profited 
by  the  attention  of  all  the  other  guardians  of  the  place  be¬ 
ing  occupied  by  the  ceremonies,  to  knock  down  the  solitary 
sentinel,  and  to  effect  his  escape,  followed  by  all  the  drunk¬ 
ards  who  were  able  to  run. 

The  evasion  of  a  few  lawless  blackguards  from  their 
prison  was  not  an  event  likely  long  to  divert  the  attention 
of  the  curious  from  the  amusements  of  the  day,  especially 
as  it  was  understood  that  their  confinement  would  have  ter- 


232 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


minated  of  itself  with  the  setting  sun.  But  when  the  fact 
was  communicated  to  Peter  Hofmeister,  the  sturdy  bailiff 
swore  fifty  harsh  oaths  at  the  impudence  of  the  knaves,  at 
the  carelessness  of  their  keepers,  and  in  honor  of  the  good 
cause  of  justice  in  general.  After  which  he  incontinently 
commanded  that  the  runaways  should  be  apprehended. 
This  material  part  of  the  process  achieved,  he  moreover 
ordered  that  they  should  be  brought  forthwith  into  his  pres¬ 
ence,  even  should  he  be  engaged  in  the  most  serious  of  the 
ceremonies  of  the  day.  The  voice  of  Peter  speaking  in 
anger  was  not  likely  to  be  unheard,  and  the  stern  mandate 
had  scarcely  issued  from  his  lips,  when  a  dozen  of  the  com¬ 
mon  thief-takers  of  Vaud  set  about  the  affair  in  good  ear¬ 
nest,  and  with  the  best  possible  intentions  to  effect  their 
object.  In  the  mean  time  the  sports  continued,  and,  as  the 
day  drew  on,  and  the  hour  for  the  banquet  approached,  the 
good  people  began  to  collect  once  more  in  the  great  square 
to  witness  the  closing  scenes,  and  to  be  present  at  the  nup¬ 
tial  benediction,  which  was  to  be  pronounced  over  Jacques 
Colis  and  Christine  by  a  real  servitor  of  the  altar,  as  the 
last  and  most  important  of  the  ceremonies  of  that  eventful 
day. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


233 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Aye,  marry ;  now  unmuzzle  your  wisdom. 

Rosalind. 

The  hour  of  noon  was  past,  when  the  stage  was  a  sec¬ 
ond  time  tilled  with  the  privileged.  The  multitude  was 
again  disposed  around  the  area  of  the  square,  and  the  bailiff 
and  his  friends  once  more  occupied  the  seats  of  honor  in 
the  centre  of  the  long  estrade.  Procession  after  proces¬ 
sion  now  began  to  reappear,  for  all  had  made  the  circuit  of 
the  city,  and  each  had  repeated  its  mummeries  so  often  that 
the  actors  grew  weary  of  their  sports.  Still,  as  the  several 
groups  came  again  into  the  high  presence  of  the  bailiff  and 
the  elite  not  only  of  their  own  country  but  of  so  many 
others,  pride  overcame  fatigue,  and  the  songs  and  dances 
were  renewed  with  the  necessary  appearance  of  good-will 
and  zeal.  Peter  Hofmeister  and  divers  others  of  the  mag¬ 
nates  of  the  canton,  were  particularly  loud  in  their  plaud¬ 
its  on  this  repetition  of  the  games,  for,  by  a  process  that 
will  be  easily  understood,  they,  who  had  been  reveling  and 
taking  their  potations  in  the  marquees  and  booths  while 
the  mummers  were  absent,  were  more  than  qualified  to 
supply  the  deficiencies  of  the  actors  by  the  warmth  and  ex¬ 
uberance  of  their  own  warmed  imaginations.  The  bailiff, 
in  particular,  as  became  his  high  office  and  determined 
character,  was  unusually  talkative  and  decided,  both  as 
respects  the  criticisms  and  encomiums  he  uttered  on  the 
various  performances,  making  as  light  of  his  own  peculiar 
qualifications  to  deal  with  the  subject,  as  if  he  were  a  com¬ 
mon  hack-reviewer  of  our  own  times,  who  is  known  to 
keep  in  view  the  quantity  rather  than  the  quality  of  his 
remarks,  and  the  stipulated  price  he  is  to  receive  per  line. 
Indeed,  the  parallel  would  hold  good  in  more  respects  than 


234 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


that  of  knowledge,  for  his  language  was  unusually  captious 
and  supercilious,  his  tone  authoritative,  and  his  motive  the 
desire  to  exhibit  his  own  endowments,  rather  than  the  wish 
he  affected  to  manifest  of  setting  forth  the  excellences  of 
others.  His  speeches  were  more  frequently  than  ever 
directed  to  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  for  whom  there  had  suddenly 
arisen  in  his  mind  a  still  stronger  gusto  than  that  he  had 
so  liberally  manifested,  and  which  had  already  drawn  so 
much  attention  to  the  deportment  of  this  pleasing  but 
modest  stranger.  Still  he  never  failed  to  compel  all,  within 
reach  of  a  reasonable  exercise  of  his  voice,  to  listen  to  his 
oracles. 

“  Those  that  have  passed,  brother  Melchior,”  said  the 
bailiff*,  addressing  the  Baron  de  Willading  in  the  fraternal 
style  of  the  biirgerschaft,  while  his  eye  was  directed  to  the 
Genoese,  in  whom  in  reality  he  wished  to  excite  admira¬ 
tion  for  his  readiness  in  heathen  lore,  “  are  no  more  than 
shepherds  and  shepherdesses  of  our  mountains,  and  none 
of  your  gods  and  demigods,  the  former  of  which  are  to  be 
known  in  this  ceremony  from  all  others  by  the  fact  that 
they  are  carried  on  men’s  shoulders,  and  the  latter  that 
they  ride  on  asses,  or  have  other  conveniences  natural  to 
their  wants.  All !  here  we  have  the  higher  orders  of  the 
mummers  in  person  —  this  comely  creature  is,  in  reality, 
Mariette  Marron  of  this  country,  as  strapping  a  wench  as 
there  is  in  Vaud,  and  as  impudent  —  but  no  matter  !  She 
is  now  the  Priestess  of  Flora,  and  I’ll  warrant  you  there 
is  not  a  horn  in  all  our  valleys  that  will  bring  a  louder 
echo  out  of  the  rocks  than  this  very  priestess  will  raise 
with  her  single  throat !  That  yonder  on  the  throne  is 
Flora  herself,  represented  by  a  comely  young  woman,  the 
daughter  of  a  warm  citizen  here  in  Vevey,  and  one  able 
to  give  her  all  the  equipments  she  bears,  without  taxing 
the  abbaye  a  doit.  I  warrant  you  that  every  flower  about 
her  was  culled  from  their  own  garden !  ” 

“  Thou  treatest  the  poetry  of  the  ceremonies  with  so 
little  respect,  good  Peterchen,  that  the  goddess  and  her 
train  dwindle  into  little  more  than  vine-dressers  and  milk¬ 
maids  beneath  thy  tongue.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


235 


“  Of  Heaven’s  sake,  friend  Melchior,”  interrupted  the 
amused  Genoese,  “  do  not  rob  us  of  the  advantage  of  the 
worthy  bailifFs  graphic  remarks.  Your  heathen  may  be 
well  enough  in  his  way,  but  surely  he  is  none  the  worse 
for  a  few  notes  and  illustrations  that  would  do  credit  to 
a  Doctor  of  Padova.  1  entreat  you  to  continue,  learned 
Peter,  that  we  strangers  may  lose  none  of  the  niceties  of 
the  exhibition.” 

“  Thou  seest,  baron,”  returned  the  well-warmed  bailiff, 
with  a  look  of  triumph,  “  a  little  explanation  can  never  in¬ 
jure  a  good  thing,  though  it  were  even  the  law  itself.  Ah  ! 
yon  is  Ceres  and  her  company,  and  a  goodly  train  they 
appear  !  These  are  the  harvest-men  and  harvest-women, 
who  represent  the  abundance  of  our  country  of  Vaud,  Sig¬ 
nor  Grimaldi,  which,  truth  to  say,  is  a  fat  land,  and  worthy 
of  the  allegory.  These  knaves,  with  the  stools  strapped 
to  their  nether  parts,  and  carrying  tubs,  are  cowherds,  and 
all  the  others  are  more  or  less  concerned  with  the  dairy. 
Ceres  was  a  personage  of  importance  among  the  ancients, 
beyond  dispute,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  manner  in  which 
she  is  backed  by  the  landed  interest.  There  is  no  solid 
respectability,  Herr  von  Willading,  that  is  not  fairly  bot¬ 
tomed  on  broad  lands.  Ye  perceive  that  the  goddess  sits 
on  a  throne  whose  ornaments  are  all  taken  from  the  earth ; 
a  sheaf  of  wheat  tops  the  canopy  ;  rich  ears  of  generous 
grain  are  her  jewels,  and  her  sceptre  is  the  sickle.  These 
are  but  allegories,  Signor  Grimaldi,  but  they  are  allusions 
that  give  birth  to  wholesome  thoughts  in  the  prudent. 
There  is  no  science  that  may  not  catch  a  hint  from  our 
games  ;  politics,  religion,  or  law,  ’tis  all  the  same  for  the 
well-disposed  and  cunning.” 

“  An  ingenious  scholar  might  even  find  an  argument  for 
the  biirgerschaft  in  an  allegory  that  is  less  clear,”  returned 
the  amused  Genoese.  “  But  you  have  overlooked,  Signor 
Bailiff,  the  instrument  that  Ceres  carries  in  the  other  hand, 
and  which  is  full  to  overflowing  with  the  fruits  of  the  earth  ; 
—  that  which  so  much  resembles  a  bullock’s  horn,  I 
mean.” 

“  That  is,  out  of  question,  some  of  the  utensils  of  the  an- 


236 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


cients  ;  perhaps  a  milking  vessel  in  use  among  the  gods  and 
goddesses,  for  your  deities  of  old  were  no  bad  housewives, 
and  made  a  merit  of  their  economy  ;  and  Ceres  here,  as  is 
seen,  is  not  ashamed  of  a  useful  occupation.  By  my  faith, 
but  this  affair  has  been  gotten  up  with  a  very  creditable 
attention  to  the  moral !  But  our  dairy-people  are  about  to 
give  us  some  of  their  airs.” 

Peterchen  now  put  a  stop  to  his  classic  lore,  while  the 
followers  of  Ceres  arranged  themselves  in  order,  and  began 
to  sing.  The  contagious  and  wild  melody  of  the  Ranz  des 
V aches  rose  in  the  square,  and  soon  drew  the  absorbed  and 
delighted  attention  of  all  within  hearing,  which,  to  say  the 
truth,  was  little  less  than  all  who  were  within  the  limits  of 
the  town,  for  the  crowd  chiming  in  with  the  more  regular 
artists,  a  sort  of  musical  enthusiasm  seized  upon  all  present 
who  came  of  Vaud  and  her  valleys.  The  dogmatical  but 
well-meaning  bailiff,  though  usually  jealous  of  his  Bernese 
origin,  and  alive  on  system  to  the  necessity  of  preserving  the 
superiority  of  the  great  canton  by  all  the  common  observ¬ 
ances  of  dignity  and  reserve,  yielded  to  the  general  move¬ 
ment,  and  shouted  with  the  rest,  under  favor  of  a  pair  of 
lungs  that  nature  had  admirably  fitted  to  sustain  the  chorus 
of  a  mountain  song.  This  condescension  in  the  deputy  of 
Berne  was  often  spoken  of  afterwards  with  admiration,  the 
simple-minded  and  credulous  ascribing  the  exaltation  of 
Peterchen  to  a  generous  warmth  in  their  happiness  and  in¬ 
terests,  wrhile  the  more  wary  and  observant  were  apt  to  im¬ 
pute  the  musical  excess  to  a  previous  excess  of  another 
character,  in  which  the  wines  of  the  neighboring  cotes  were 
fairly  entitled  to  come  in  for  a  full  share  of  the  merit.  Those 
who  were  nearest  the  bailiff  were  secretly  much  diverted 
with  his  awkward  attempts  at  graciousness,  which  one  fair 
and  witty  Yaudoise  likened  to  the  antics  of  one  of  the  cele¬ 
brated  animals  that  are  still  fostered  in  the  city  which  ruled 
so  much  of  Switzerland,  and  from  whom,  indeed,  the  town 
and  canton  are  both  vulgarly  supposed  to  have  derived  their 
common  name  ;  for,  while  the  authority  of  Berne  weighed 
so  imperiously  and  heavily  on  its  subsidiary  countries,  as  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  the  people  of  the  latter  were  much 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


237 


addicted  to  taking  an  impotent  revenge  by  whispering  the 
pleasantest  sarcasms  they  could  invent  against  their  masters. 
Notwithstanding  this  and  many  more  criticisms  on  his  per¬ 
formance,  the  bailiff  enacted  his  part  in  the  representation 
to  his  own  entire  satisfaction ;  and  he  resumed  his  seat 
with  a  consciousness  of  having  at  least  merited  the  applause 
of  the  people,  for  having  entered  with  so  much  spirit  into 
their  games,  and  with  the  hope  that  this  act  of  grace  might 
be  the  means  of  causing  them  to  forget  some  fifty  or  a  hun¬ 
dred  of  his  other  acts,  which  certainly  had  not  possessed 
the  same  melodious  and  companionable  features. 

After  this  achievement  the  bailiff  w*as  reasonably  quiet, 
until  Bacchus  and  his  train  again  entered  the  square.  At 
the  appearance  of  the  laughing  urchin  who  bestrode  the 
cask,  he  resumed  his  dissertations  with  a  confidence  that  all 
are  apt  to  feel  who  are  about  to  treat  on  a  subject  with 
which  thev  have  had  occasion  to  be  familiar. 

“  This  is  the  god  of  good  liquor,”  said  Peterchen,  always 
speaking  to  any  one  who  would  listen,  although,  by  an  in¬ 
stinct  of  respect,  he  chiefly  preferred  favoring  the  Signor 
Grimaldi  with  his  remarks,  “  as  may  plainly  be  seen  by  his 
seat;  and  these  are  dancing  attendants,  to  show  that  wine 
gladdens  the  heart ;  yonder  is  the  press  at  work,  extract¬ 
ing  the  juices,  and  that  huge  cluster  is  to  represent  the 
grapes,  which  the  messengers  of  Joshua  brought  back  from 
Canaan  when  sent  to  spy  out  the  land,  a  history  which  I 
make  no  doubt  you,  Signore,  in  Italy,  have  at  your  fingers’ 
ends.” 

Gaetano  Grimaldi  looked  embarrassed,  for,  although  well 
skilled  in  the  lore  of  the  heathen  mythology,  his  learning 
as  a  male  Papist  and  a  laic  was  not  particularly  rich  in  the 
story  of  the  Christian  faith.  At  first  he  supposed  that  the 
bailiff  had  merely  blundered  in  his  account  of  the  mythol¬ 
ogy,  but,  taxing  his  memory  a  little,  he  recovered  some 
faint  glimpses  of  the  truth,  a  redemption  of  his  character  as 
a  book-man,  for  which  he  was  materially  indebted  to  having 
seen  some  celebrated  pictures  on  this  very  subject,  a  species 
of  instruction  in  holy  writ  that  is  sufficiently  common 
among  those  who  inhabit  the  Catholic  countries  of  the 
other  hemisphere. 


23S 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  Thou  surely  hast  not  overlooked  the  history  of  the 
gigantic  cluster  of  grapes,  Signore  !  ”  exclaimed  Peterchen, 
astonished  at  the  apparent  hesitation  of  the  Italian.  “  ’Tis 
the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  legends  of  the  holy  book. 
Ha !  as  I  live,  there  is  the  ass  without  his  rider  ;  what  has 
become  of  the  blackguard  Antoine  Giraud  ?  The  rogue 
has  alighted  to  swallow  a  fresh  draught  from  some  booth, 
after  draining  his  own  skin  to  the  bottom.  This  comes  of 
neglect ;  a  sober  man,  or  at  least  one  of  a  harder  head, 
should  have  been  put  to  the  part ;  for,  look  you,  ’tis  a 
character  that  need  stand  at  least  a  gallon,  since  the  re¬ 
hearsals  alone  are  enough  to  take  a  common  drinker  off  his 
centre.” 

The  tongue  of  the  bailiff  ran  on  in  accompaniment, 
during  the  time  that  the  followers  of  Bacchus  were  going 
through  with  their  songs  and  pageants,  and  when  they  dis¬ 
appeared,  it  gained  a  louder  key,  like  the  “  rolling  river  that 
murmuring  flows  and  flows  forever,”  rising  again  on  the 
ear,  after  the  din  of  any  adventitious  noise  has  ceased. 

“Now  we  may  expect  the  pretty  bride  and  her  maids,” 
continued  Peterchen,  winking  at  his  companions,  as  the 
ancient  gallant  is  wont  to  make  a  parade  of  his  admiration 
of  the  fair ;  “  the  solemn  ceremony  is  to  be  pronounced 
here,  before  the  authorities,  as  a  suitable  termination  to  this 
happy  day.  Ah  !  my  good  old  friend  Melchior,  neither  of 
us  is  the  man  he  was,  or  these  skipping  hoydens  would  not 
go  through  their  pirouettes  without  some  aid  from  our  arms. 
Now,  dispose  of  yourselves,  friends  ;  for  this  is  to  be  no  act¬ 
ing,  but  a  downright  marriage,  and  it  is  meet  that  we  keep 
a  graver  air.  How  !  what  means  the  movement  among  the 
officers  ?  ” 

Peterchen  had  interrupted  himself,  for  just  at  that 
moment  the  thief-takers  entered  the  square  in  a  body,  in¬ 
closing  in  their  centre  a  group,  who  had  the  mien  of  captives 
too  evidently  to  be.  mistaken  for  honest  men.  The  bailiff 
was  peculiarly  an  executive  officer ;  one  of  that  class  who 
believe  that  the  enactment  of  a  law  is  a  point  of  far  less 
interest  than  its  due  fulfillment.  Indeed,  so  far  did  he  push 
his  favorite  principle,  that  he  did  not  hesitate  sometimes  to 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


289 


suppose  shades  of  meaning  in  the  different  ordinances  of 
the  great  council  that  existed  only  in  his  own  brain,  but 
which  were,  to  do  him  justice,  sufficiently  convenient  to  him¬ 
self  in  carrying  out  the  constructions  which  he  saw  fit  to 
put  on  his  own  duties.  The  appearance  of  an  affair  of 
justice  was  unfortunate  for  the  progress  of  the  ceremonies. 
Peterchen  having  some  such  relish  for  the  punishment  of 
rogues,  and  more  especially  for  such  as  seemed  to  be  an 
eternal  reproach  to  the  action  of  the  Bernese  system  by 
their  incorrigible  misery  and  poverty,  as  an  old  coachman 
is  proverbially  said  to  maintain  for  the  crack  of  the  whip. 
All  his  judicial  sympathies  were  not  fully  awakened  on  the 
present  occasion,  however,  the  criminals,  though  far  from 
belonging  to  the  more  lucky  of  their  fellow-creatures,  not 
being  quite  miserable  enough  in  appearance  to  awaken  all 
those  powers  of  magisterial  reproach  and  severity  that  lay 
dormant  in  the  bailiff’s  moral  temperament,  ready  at  any 
time  to  vindicate  the  right  of  the  strong  against  the  inno¬ 
vations  of  the  feeble  and  unhappy.  The  reader  will  at 
once  have  anticipated  that  the  prisoners  were  Maso  and 
his  companions,  who  had  been  more  successful  in  escaping 
from  their  keepers,  than  fortunate  in  evading  the  attempts 
to  secure  their  persons  a  second  time. 

“  Who  are  these  that  dare  affront  the  ruling  powers  on 
this  day  of  general  good-will  and  rejoicing  ?  ”  sternly  de¬ 
manded  the  bailiff,  when  the  minions  of  the  law  and  their 
captives  stood  fairly  before  him.  “  Do  ye  not  know, 
knaves,  that  this  is  a  solemn,  almost  a  religious  ceremony 
at  Yevey  —  for  so  it  would  be  considered  by  the  ancients 
at  least  —  and  that  a  crime  is  doubly  a  crime  when  com¬ 
mitted  either  in  an  honorable  presence,  on  a  solemn  and 
dignified  occasion  like  this,  or  against  the  authorities  ;  this 
last  being  always  the  gravest  and  greatest  of  all  ?  ” 

“We  are  but  indifferent  scholars,  worshipful  bailiff,  as 
you  may  easily  perceive  by  our  outward  appearance,  and 
are  to  be  judged  leniently,”  answered  Maso.  “  Our  whole 
offense  was  a  hot  but  short  quarrel  touching  a  dog,  in  which 
hands  were  made  to  play  the  part  of  reason,  and  which 
would  have  done  little  harm  to  any  but  ourselves,  had  it 


240 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


been  the  pleasure  of  the  town  authorities  to  have  left  us  to 
decide  the  dispute  in  our  own  way.  As  you  well  say,  this 
is  a  joyous  occasion,  and  we  esteem  it  hard  that  we,  of  all 
Vevey,  should  be  shut  up  on  account  of  so  light  an  affair, 
and  cut  off  from  the  merriment  of  the  rest.” 

“  There  is  reason  in  this  fellow,  after  all,”  said  Peterchen, 
in  a  low  voice.  “  What  is  a  dog  more  or  less  to  Berne,  and 
a  public  rejoicing  to  produce  its  end  should  go  deep  into 
the  community.  Let  the  men  go,  of  God’s  name  !  and  look 
to  it,  that  all  the  dogs  be  beaten  out  of  the  square,  that  we 
may  have  no  more  folly.” 

“  Please  you,  these  are  the  men  that  have  escaped  from 
the  authorities,  after  knocking  down  their  keeper,”  the 
officer  humbly  observed. 

“  How  is  this  !  Didst  thou  not  say,  fellow,  that  it  was 
all  about  a  dog?” 

“  I  spoke  of  the  reason  of  our  being  shut  up.  It  is  true 
that,  wearied  with  breathing  pent  air,  and  a  little  heated 
with  wine,  we  left  the  prison  without  permission  ;  but  we 
hope  this  little  sally  of  spirit  will  be  overlooked  on  account 
of  the  extraordinary  occasion.” 

“  Rogue,  thy  plea  augments  the  offense.  A  crime  com¬ 
mitted  on  an  extraordinary  occasion  becomes  an  extraor¬ 
dinary  crime,  and  requires  an  extraordinary  punishment, 
which  I  intend  to  see  inflicted  forthwith.  You  have 
insulted  the  authorities,  and  that  is  the  unpardonable  sin  in 
all  communities.  Draw  nearer,  friends,  for  I  love  to  let 
my  reasons  be  felt  and  understood  by  those  who  are  to  be 
affected  by  my  decisions,  and  this  is  a  happy  moment  to 
give  a  short  lesson  to  the  Vevaisans  —  let  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  wait  —  draw  nearer  all,  that  ye  may  better 
hear  what  I  have  to  say.” 

The  crowd  pressed  more  closely  around  the  foot  of  the 
stage,  and  Peterchen,  assuming  a  didactic  air,  resumed  his 
discourse. 

“  The  object  of  all  authority  is  to  find  the  means  of  its 
own  support,”  continued  the  bailiff ;  “  for  unless  it  can 
exist,  it  must  fall  to  the  ground ;  and  you  all  are  sufficiently 
schooled  to  know  that  when  a  thing  becomes  of  indifferent 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


241 


value,  it  loses  most  of  its  consideration.  Thus  government 
is  established  in  order  that  it  may  protect  itself ;  since  with¬ 
out  this  power  it  could  not  remain  a  government,  and  there 
is  not  a  man  existing  who  is  not  ready  to  admit  that  even  a 
bad  government  is  better  than  none.  But  ours  is  particu¬ 
larly  a  good  government,  its  greatest  care  on  all  occasions 
being  to  make  itself  respected,  and  he  who  respects  himself 
is  certain  to  have  esteem  in  the  eyes  of  others.  Without 
this  security  we  should  become  like  the  unbridled  steed,  or 
the  victims  of  anarchy  and  confusion,  aye,  and  damnable 
heresies  in  religion.  Thus  you  see,  my  friends,  your  choice 
lies  between  the  government  of  Berne,  or  no  government 
at  all ;  for  when  only  two  things  exist,  by  taking  one  away 
the  number  is  reduced  half,  and  as  the  great  canton  will 
keep  its  own  share  of  the  institutions,  by  taking  half  away, 
Vaud  is  left  as  naked  as  my  hand.  Ask  yourselves  if  you 
have  any  government  but  this  ?  You  know  you  have  not. 
Were  you  quit  of  Berne,  therefore,  you  clearly  would  have 
none  at  all.  Officer,  you  have  a  sword  at  your  side,  which 
is  a  good  type  of  our  authority ;  draw  it  and  hold  it  up, 
that  all  may  see  it.  You  perceive,  my  friends,  that  the 
officer  hath  a  sword ;  but  that  he  hath  only  one  sword. 
Lay  it  at  thy  feet,  officer.  You  perceive,  friends,  that  hav¬ 
ing  but  one  sword,  and  laying  that  sword  aside,  he  no 
longer  hath  a  sword  at  all!  That  weapon  represents  our 
authority,  which,  laid  aside,  becomes  no  authority,  leaving 
us  with  an  unarmed  hand.” 

This  happy  comparison  drew  a  murmur  of  applause  ;  the 
proposition  of  Peterchen  having  most  of  the  properties  of  a 
popular  theory,  being  deficient  in  neither  a  bold  assertion, 
a  brief  exposition,  nor  a  practical  illustration.  The  latter 
in  particular  was  long  afterwards  spoken  of  in  Vaud,  as  an 
exposition  little  short  of  the  well-known  judgment  of  Solo¬ 
mon,  who  had  resorted  to  the  same  keen-edged  weapon  in 
order  to  solve  a  point  almost  as  knotty  as  this  settled  by 
the  bailiff.  When  the  approbation  had  a  little  subsided, 
the  warmed  Peterchen  continued  his  discourse,  which  pos¬ 
sessed  the  random  and  generalized  logic  of  most  of  the 

dissertations  that  are  uttered  in  the  interests  of  things  as 
16 


242 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


they  are,  without  paying  any  particular  deference  to  things 
as  they  should  be. 

“  What  is  the  use  of  teaching  the  multitude  to  read  and 
write  ?  ”  he  asked.  “  Had  not  Franz  Kauffman  known  how 
to  write,  could  he  have  imitated  his  master’s  hand,  and 
would  he  have  lost  his  head  for  mistaking  another  man’s 
name  for  his  own  ?  a  little  reflection  shows  us  he  would 
not.  Now,  as  for  the  other  art,  could  the  people  read  bad 
books  had  they  never  learned  the  alphabet  ?  If  there  is  a 
man  present  who  can  say  to  the  contrary,  I  absolve  him 
from  his  respect,  and  invite  him  to  speak  boldly,  for  there 
is  no  Inquisition  in  Vaud,  but  we  invite  argument.  This  is 
a  free  government,  and  a  fatherly  government,  and  a  mild 
government,  as  ye  all  know  ;  but  it  is  not  a  government 
that  likes  reading  and  writing ;  reading  that  leads  to  the 
perusal  of  bad  books,  and  writing  that  causes  false  signa¬ 
tures.  Fellow-citizens,  for  we  are  all  equal,  with  the  ex¬ 
ception  of  certain  differences  that  need  not  now  be  named, 
it  is  a  government  for  your  good,  and  therefore  it  is  a  gov¬ 
ernment  that  likes  itself,  and  whose  first  duty  it  is  to  pro¬ 
tect  itself  and  its  officers  at  all  hazards,  even  though  it 
might  by  accident  commit  some  seeming  injustice.  Fellow, 
canst  thou  read  ?  ” 

“  Indifferently,  worshipful  bailiff,”  returned  Maso.  “  There 
are  those  who  get  through  a  book  with  less  trouble  than 
myself.” 

“  I  warrant  you,  now,  he  means  a  good  book,  but,  as  for 
a  bad  one,  I’ll  engage  the  varlet  goes  through  it  like  a  wild 
boar !  This  comes  of  education  among  the  ignorant ! 
There  is  no  more  certain  method  to  corrupt  a  community, 
and  to  rivet  it  in  beastly  practices,  than  to  educate  the 
ignorant.  The  enlightened  can  bear  knowledge,  for  rich 
food  does  not  harm  the  stomach  that  is  used  to  it,  but  it  is 
hellebore  to  the  ill-fed.  Education  is  an  arm,  for  knowl¬ 
edge  is  power,  and  the  ignorant  man  is  but  an  infant,  and 
to  give  him  knowledge  is  like  putting  a  loaded  blunderbuss 
into  the  hands  of  a  child.  What  can  an  ignorant  man  do 
with  knowledge  ?  lie  is  as  likely  to  use  it  wrong  end 
uppermost  as  in  any  other  manner.  Learning  is  a  ticklish 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


243 


thing;  it  was  said  by  Festus  to  have  maddened  even  the 
wise  and  experienced  Paul,  and  what  may  we  not  expect 
it  to  do  with  your  downright  ignoramus  ?  What  is  thy 
name,  prisoner?” 

“  Tommaso  Santi ;  sometimes  known  among  my  friends 
as  San  Tommaso  ;  called  by  my  enemies,  II  Maledetto,  and 
by  my  familiars,  Maso.” 

u  Thou  hast  a  formidable  number  of  aliases,  the  certain 
sign  of  a  rogue.  Thou  hast  confessed  that  thou  canst 
read  ”  — 

“  Nay,  Signor  Bailiff,  I  would  not  be  taken  to  have 
said  ”  — 

“  By  the  faith  of  Calvin,  thou  didst  confess  it,  before  all 
this  goodly  company  !  Wilt  thou  deny  thine  own  words, 
knave,  in  the  very  face  of  justice  ?  Thou  canst  read  —  thou 
hast  it  in  thy  countenance,  and  I  would  go  nigh  to  swear, 
too,  that  thou  hast  some  inkling  of  the  quill,  were  the  truth 
honestly  said.  Signor  Grimaldi,  I  know  not  how  you  find 
this  affair  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps,  but  with  us,  our 
greatest  troubles  come  from  these  well-taught  knaves,  who, 
picking  up  knowledge  fraudulently,  use  it  with  felonious 
intent,  without  thought  of  the  wants  and  rights  of  the 
public.” 

“We  have  0£ir  difficulties,  as  is  the  fact  wherever  man  is 
found  with  his  selfishness  and  passions,  Signor  Bailiff ;  but 
are  we  not  doing  an  ungallant  act  towards  yonder  fair 
bride,  by  giving  the  precedency  to  men  of  this  cast  ?  Would 
it  not  be  better  to  dismiss  the  modest  Christine,  happy  in 
Hymen’s  chains,  before  we  enter  more  deeply  into  the  ques¬ 
tion  of  the  manacles  of  these  prisoners  ?  ” 

To  the  amazement  of  all  who  knew  the  bailiff’s  natural 
obstinacy,  which  was  wont  to  increase  instead  of  becoming 
more  manageable  in  his  cups,  Peterchen  assented  to  this 
proposition  with  a  complaisance  and  apparent  good-will, 
that  he  rarely  manifested  towards  any  opinion  of  which  he 
did  not  think  himself  legitimately  the  father ;  though,  like 
many  others  who  bear  that  honorable  title,  he  was  some¬ 
times  made  to  yield  the  privileges  of  paternity  to  other 
men’s  children.  He  had  shown  an  unusual  deference  to 


244 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


the  Italian,  however,  throughout  the  whole  of  their  short 
intercourse,  and  on  no  occasion  was.it  less  equivocal,  than 
in  the  promptness  with  which  he  received  the  present  hint. 
The  prisoners  and  officers  were  commanded  to  stand  aside, 
but  so  near  as  to  remain  beneath  his  eye,  while  some  of  the 
officials  of  the  abbaye  were  ordered  to  give  notice  to  the 
train,  which  awaited  these  arrangements  in  silent  wonder, 
that  it  might  now  approach. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


245 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Go,  wiser  thou !  and  in  thy  scale  of  sense 
Weigh  thy  opinion  against  Providence; 

Call  imperfection  what  thou  fanciest  such ; 

Say,  here  He  gives  too  little,  there  too  much; 

Destroy  all  creatures  for  thy  sport  or  gust, 

And  say,  if  man’s  unhappy,  God’s  unjust. 

Pope. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  the  list  of  characters  that 
acted  the  different  parts  in  the  train  of  the  village  nuptials. 
All  were  there  at  the  close  of  the  ceremonies,  as  they  had 
appeared  earlier  in  the  day,  and  as  the  last  of  the  legal 
forms  of  the  marriage  was  actually  to  take  place  in  pres¬ 
ence  of  the  bailiff,  preparatory  to  the  more  solemn  rites  of 
the  Church,  the  throng  yielded  to  its  curiosity,  breaking 
through  the  line  of  those  who  were  stationed  to  restrain  its 
inroads,  and  pressing  about  the  foot  of  the  estrade  in  the 
stronger  interest  which  reality  is  known  to  possess  over 
fiction.  During  the  day,  a  thousand  new  inquiries  had 
been  made  concerning  the  bride,  whose  beauty  and  mieu 
were  altogether  so  superior  to  what  might  have  been  ex¬ 
pected  in  one  who  could  consent  to  act  the  part  she  did  on 
so  public  an  occasion,  and  whose  modest  bearing  was  in 
such  singular  contradiction  to  her  present  situation.  None 
knew,  however,  or,  if  it  were  known,  no  one  chose,  to  re¬ 
veal,  her  history ;  and,  as  curiosity  had  been  so  keenly 
whetted  by  mystery,  the  rush  of  the  multitude  was  merely 
a  proof  of  the  power  which  expectation,  aided  by  the  thou¬ 
sand  surmises  of  rumor,  can  gain  over  the  minds  of  the  idle. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  character  of  the  conjec¬ 
tures  made  at  the  expense  of  poor  Christine,  —  and  they 
were  wanting  in  neither  variety  nor  malice,  —  most  were 
compelled  to  agree  in  commending  the  diffidence  of  her  air, 
and  the  gentle  sweetness  of  her  mild  and  peculiar  beauty. 


246 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Some,  indeed,  affected  to  see  artifice  in  the  former,  which 
was  pronounced  to  be  far  too  excellent,  or  too  much  over¬ 
done,  for  nature.  The  usual  amount  of  commonplace 
remarks  was  made,  too,  on  the  lucky  diversity  that  was  to 
be  found  in  tastes,  and  on  the  happy  necessity  there  existed 
of  all  being  able  to  find  the  means  to  please  themselves. 
But  these  were  no  more  than  the  moral  blotches  that  usu¬ 
ally  disfigure  human  commendation.  The  sentiment  and 
the  sympathies  of  the  mass  were  powerfully  and  irresistibly 
enlisted  in  favor  of  the  unknown  maiden  —  feelings  that 
were  very  unequivocally  manifested  as  she  drew  nearer  the 
estrade,  walking  timidly  through  a  dense  lane  of  bodies,  all 
of  which  were  pressing  eagerly  forward  to  get  a  better 
view  of  her  person. 

The  bailiff,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  have 
taken  in  dudgeon  this  violation  of  the  rules  prescribed  for 
the  government  of  the  multitude ;  for  he  was  perfectly  sin¬ 
cere  in  his  opinions,  absurd  as  so  many  of  them  were,  and, 
like  many  other  honest  men  who  defeat  the  effects  they 
would  produce  by  forced  constructions  of  their  principles, 
he  was  a  little  apt  to  run  into  excesses  of  discipline.  But 
in  the  present  instance,  he  was  rather  pleased  than  other¬ 
wise  to  see  the  throng  within  the  reach  of  his  voice.  The 
occasion  was,  at  best,  but  semi-official,  and  he  was  so  far 
under  the  influence  of  the  warm  liquors  of  the  cotes  as  to 
burn  with  the  desire  of  putting  forth  still  more  liberally  his 
flowers  of  eloquence  and  his  stores  of  wisdom.  lie  re¬ 
ceived  the  inroad,  therefore,  with  an  air  of  perfect  good 
humor,  a  manifestation  of  assent  that  encouraged  still 
greater  innovations  on  the  limits,  until  the  space  occupied 
by  the  principal  actors  in  this  closing  scene  was  reduced  to 
the  smallest  possible  size  that  was  at  all  compatible  with 
their  movements  and  comforts.  In  this  situation  of  things 
the  ceremonies  proceeded. 

The  gentle  flow  of  hope  and  happiness  which  was  slowly 
increasing  in  the  mild  bosom  of  the  bride,  from  the  first 
moment  of  her  appearance  in  this  unusual  scene  to  that  in 
which  it  was  checked  by  the  cries  of  Pippo,  had  been  grad¬ 
ually  lessening  under  a  sense  of  distrust,  and  she  now  en- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


247 


tered  the  square  with  a  secret  and  mysterious  dread  at  the 
heart,  which  her  inexperience  and  great  ignorance  of  life 
served  fearfully  to  increase.  Her  imagination  magnified 
the  causes  of  alarm  into  some  prepared  and  designed  insult. 
Christine,  fully  aware  of  the  obloquy  that  pressed  upon  her 
race,  had  only  consented  to  adopt  this  unusual  mode  of 
changing  her  condition,  under  a  sensitive  apprehension  that 
any  other  would  have  necessarily  led  to  the  exposure  of  her 
origin.  This  fear,  though  exaggerated,  and  indeed  causeless, 
was  the  result  of  too  much  brooding  of  late  over  her  own 
situation,  and  of  that  morbid  sensibility  in  which  the  most 
pure  and  innocent  are,  unhappily,  the  most  likely'to  indulge. 
The  concealment,  as  has  already  been  explained,  was  that 
of  her  intended  husband,  who,  with  the  subterfuge  of  an  in¬ 
terested  spirit,  had  hoped  to  mislead  the  little  circle  of  his 
own  acquaintances  and  gratify  his  cupidity  at  the  cheapest 
possible  rate  to  himself.  But  there  is  a  point  of  self-abase¬ 
ment  beyond  which  the  perfect  consciousness  of  right  rarely 
permits  even  the  most  timid  to  proceed.  As  the  bride 
moved  up  the  lane  of  human  bodies,  her  eye  grew  less  dis¬ 
turbed  and  her  step  firmer,  —  for  the  pride  of  rectitude  over¬ 
came  the  ordinary  girlish  sensibilities  of  her  sex,  and  made 
her  the  steadiest  at  the  very  instant  that  the  greater  portion 
of  females  would  have  been  the  most  likely  to  betray  their 
weakness.  She  had  just  attained  this  forced  but  respectable 
tranquillity,  as  the  bailiff,  signing  to  the  crowd  to  bush  its 
murmurs  and  to  remain  motionless,  arose,  with  a  manner 
that  he  intended  to  be  dignified,  and  which  passed  with  the 
multitude  for  a  very  successful  experiment  in  its  way,  to 
open  the  business  in  hand  by  a  short  address.  The  reader 
is  not  to  be  surprised  at  the  volubility  of  honest  Peterchen, 
for  it  was  getting  to  be  late  in  the  day,  and  his  frequent 
libations  throughout  the  ceremonies  would  have  wrought 
him  up  to  even  a  much  higher  flight  of  eloquence,  had  the 
occasion  and  the  company  at  all  suited  such  a  display  of  his 
powers. 

“We  have  had  a  joyous  day,  my  friends,”  he  said ;  “  one 
whose  excellent  ceremonies  ought  to  recall  to  every  one  of 
us  our  dependence  on  Providence,  our  frail  and  sinful  dis- 


248 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


positions,  and  particularly  our  duties  to  the  councils.  By 
the  types  of  plenty  and  abundance,  we  see  the  bounty  of 
nature,  which  is  a  gift  from  Heaven  ;  by  the  different  little 
failures  that  have  been,  perhaps,  unavoidably  made  in  some 
of  the  nicer  parts  of  the  exhibition  —  and  I  would  here  par¬ 
ticularly  mention  the  besotted  drunkenness  of  Antoine  Gi- 
raud,  the  man  who  has  impudently  undertaken  to  play  the 
part  of  Silenus,  as  a  fit  subject  of  your  attention,  for  it  is 
full  of  profit  to  all  hard-drinking  knaves  —  we  may  see  our 
own  awful  imperfections  ;  while,  in  the  order  of  the  whole, 
and  the  perfect  obedience  of  the  subordinates,  do  we  find  a 
parallel  to  the  beauty  of  a  vigilant  and  exact  police  and  a 
well-regulated  community.  Thus  you  see,  that  though  the 
ceremony  hath  a  heathen  exterior,  it  hath  a  Christian 
moral ;  God  grant  that  we  all  forget  the  former,  and  re¬ 
member  the  latter,  as  best  becomes  our  several  characters 
and  our  common  country.  And  now,  having  done  with  the 
divinities  and  their  legends  —  with  the  exception  of  that 
varlet  Silenus,  whose  misconduct,  I  promise  you,  is  not  to 
be  so  easily  overlooked  —  we  will  give  some  attention  to 
mortal  affairs.  Marriage  is  honorable  before  God  and  man, 
and  although  I  have  never  had  leisure  to  enter  into  this 
holy  state  myself,  owing  to  a  variety  of  reasons,  but  chiefly 
from  my  being  wedded,  as  it  were,  to  the  state,  to  which 
we  all  owe  quite  as  much,  or  even  greater  duty,  than  the 
most  faithful  wife  owes  to  her  husband,  I  would  not  have 
you  suppose  that  I  have  not  a  high  veneration  for  matri¬ 
mony.  So  far  from  this,  I  have  looked  on  no  part  of  this 
day’s  ceremonies  with  more  satisfaction  than  these  of  the 
nuptials,  which  we  are  now  called  upon  to  complete  in  a 
manner  suitable  to  the  importance  of  the  occasion.  Let  the 
bridegroom  and  the  bride  stand  forth,  that  all  may  the  better 
see  the  happy  pair.” 

At  the  bidding  of  the  bailiff,  Jacques  Colis  led  Christine 
upon  the  little  stage  prepared  for  their  reception,  where 
both  were  more  completely  in  view  of  the  spectators  than 
they  had  yet  been.  The  movement,  and  the  agitation  con¬ 
sequent  on  so  public  an  exposure,  deepened  the  bloom  on 
the  soft  cheeks  of  the  bride,  and  another  and  i  still  less 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


249 


equivocal  murmur  of  applause  arose  in  the  multitude.  The 
spectacle  of  youth,  innocence,  and  feminine  loveliness, 
strongly  stirred  the  sympathies  of  even  the  most  churlish 
and  rude ;  and  most  present  began  to  feel  for  her  fears,  and 
to  participate  in  her  hopes. 

“  This  is  excellent !  ”  continued  the  well-pleased  Peter- 
chen,  who  was  never  half  so  happy  as  when  he  was  officially 
providing  for  the  happiness  of  others  ;  “  it  promises  a  happy 
menage.  A  loyal,  frugal,  industrious,  and  active  groom, 
with  a  fair  and  willing  bride,  can  drive  discontent  up  any 
man’s  chimney.  That  which  is  to  be  done  next,  being  legal 
and  binding,  must  be  done  with  proper  gravity  and  respect. 
Let  the  notary  advance  —  not  him  who  hath  so  aptly  played 
this  character,  but  the  commendable  and  upright  officer  who 
is  rightly  charged  with  these  respectable  functions  —  and  we 
will  listen  to  the  contract.  I  recommend  a  decent  silence, 
my  friends,  for  the  true  laws  and  real  matrimony  are  at  the 
bottom  —  a  grave  affair  at  the  best,  and  one  never  to  be 
treated  with  levity  ;  since  a  few  words  pronounced  now  in 
haste  may  be  repented  of  for  a  whole  life  hereafter.” 

Everything  was  conducted  according  to  the  wishes  of  the 
bailiff,  and  with  great  decency  of  form.  A  true  and  author¬ 
ized  notary  read  aloud  the  marriage-contract,  the  instrument 
which  contained  the  civic  relations  and  rights  of  the  parties, 
and  which  only  waited  for  the  signatures  to  be  complete. 
This  document  required,  of  course,  that  the  real  names  of 
the  contracting  parties,  their  ages,  births,  parentage,  and  all 
those  facts  which  are  necessary  to  establish  their  identity, 
and  to  secure  the  rights  of  succession,  should  be  clearly  set 
forth  in  a  way  to  render  the  instrument  valid  at  the  most 
remote  period,  should  there  ever  arrive  a  necessity  to  recur 
to  it  in  the  way  of  testimony.  The  most  eager  attention 
pervaded  the  crowd  as  they  listened  to  these  little  particu¬ 
lars,  and  Adelheid  trembled  in  this  delicate  part  of  the  pro¬ 
ceedings,  as  the  suppressed  but  still  audible  breathing  of 
Sigismund  reached  her  ear,  lest  something  might  occur  to 
give  a  rude  shock  to  his  feelings.  But  it  would  seem  the 
notary  had  his  cue.  The  details  touching  Christine  were  so 
artfully  arranged,  that  while  they  were  perfectly  binding  in 


250 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


law,  they  were  so  dexterously  concealed  from  the  observa¬ 
tion  of  the  unsuspecting,  that  no  attention  was  drawn  to  the 
point  most  apprehended  by  their  exposure.  Sigismund 
breathed  freer  when  the  notary  drew  near  the  end  of  his 
task,  and  Adelheid  heard  the  heavy  breath  he  drew  at  the 
close,  with  the  joy  one  feels  at  the  certainty  of  having  passed 
an  imminent  danger.  Christine  herself  seemed  relieved, 
though  her  inexperience  in  a  great  degree  prevented  her 
from  foreseeing  all  that  the  greater  practice  of  Sigismund 
had  led  him  to  anticipate. 

“  This  is  quite  in  rule,  and  naught  now  remains  but  to 
receive  the  signatures  of  the  respective  parties  and  their 
friends,”  resumed  the  bailiff.  “  A  happy  menage  is  like  a 
well-ordered  state,  a  foretaste  of  the  joys  and  peace  of 
heaven  ;  while  a  discontented  household  and  a  turbulent 
community  may  be  likened  at  once  to  the  penalties  and  the 
pains  of  hell  !  Let  the  friends  of  the  parties  step  forth,  in 
readiness  to  sign  when  the  principals  themselves  shall  have 
discharged  this  duty.” 

A  few  of  the  relatives  and  associates  of  Jacques  Colis 
moved  out  of  the  crowd  and  placed  themselves  at  the  side 
of  the  bridegroom,  who  immediately  wrote  his  own  name, 
like  a  man  impatient  to  be  happy.  A  pause  succeeded,  for 
all  were  curious  to  see  who  claimed  affinity  to  the  trem¬ 
bling  girl  on  this,  the  most  solemn  and  important  event  of 
her  life.  An  interval  of  several  minutes  elapsed,  and  no 
one  appeared.  The  respiration  of  Sigismund  became  more 
difficult ;  he  seemed  about  to  choke,  and  then  yielding  to  a 
generous  impulse,  he  arose. 

“  For  the  love  of  God  !  —  for  thine  own  sake !  for  mine  ! 
be  not  too  hasty  !  ”  whispered  the  terrified  Adelheid  ;  for 
she  saw  the  hot  glow  that  almost  blazed  on  his  brow. 

“  I  cannot  desert  poor  Christine  to  the  scorn  of  the  world, 
in  a  moment  like  this  !  If  I  die  of  shame,  I  must  go  for¬ 
ward  and  own  myself.” 

The  hand  of  Mademoiselle  de  Willading  was  laid  upon 
his  arm,  and  he  yielded  to  this  silent  but  impressive  en¬ 
treaty,  for  just  then  he  saw  that  his  sister  was  about  to  be 
relieved  from  her  distressing  solitude.  The  throng  yielded, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


251 


and  a  decent  pair,  attired  in  the  guise  of  small  but  comfort¬ 
able  proprietors,  moved  doubtingly  towards  the  bride.  The 
eyes  of  Christine  filled  with  tears,  for  terror  and  the  appre¬ 
hension  of  disgrace  yielded  suddenly  to  joy.  Those  who 
advanced  to  support  her  in  that  moment  of  intense  trial 
were  her  father  and  mother.  The  respectable-looking  pair 
moved  slowly  to  the  side  of  their  daughter,  and,  having 
placed  themselves  one  on  each  side  of  her,  they  first  ven¬ 
tured  to  cast  furtive  and  subdued  glances  at  the  multitude. 

“  It  is  doubtless  painful  to  the  parents  to  part  with  so  fair 
and  so  dutiful  a  child,”  resumed  the  obtuse  Peterchen,  who 
rarely  saw  in  any  emotion  more  than  its  most  common¬ 
place  and  vulgar  character  ;  “  nature  pulls  them  one  way, 
while  the  terms  of  the  contract  and  the  progress  of  our 
ceremonies  pull  another.  I  have  often  weaknesses  of  this 
sort  myself,  the  most  sensitive  hearts  being  the  most  liable 
to  these  attacks.  But  my  children  are  the  public,  and  do 
not  admit  of  too  much  of  what  I  may  call  the  detail  of  sen¬ 
timent,  else,  by  the  soul  of  Calvin  !  were  I  but  an  indiffer¬ 
ent  bailiff  for  Berne  !  Thou  art  the  father  of  this  fair  and 
blushing  maiden,  and  thou  her  mother  ?  ” 

“  We  are  these,”  returned  Balthazar,  mildly. 

“  Thou  art  not  of  Vevey,  or  its  neighborhood,  by  thy 
speech  ?  ” 

“  Of  the  great  canton,  mein  Herr  ;  ”  for  the  answer  was 
in  German,  these  contracted  districts  possessing  nearly  as 
many  dialects  as  there  are  territorial  divisions.  “We  are 
strangers  in  Vaud.” 

“  Thou  hast  not  done  the  worse  for  marrying  thy  daugh¬ 
ter  with  a  Vevaisan,  and,  more  especially,  under  the  favor 
of  our  renowned  and  liberal  abbaye.  I  warrant  me  thy 
child  will  be  none  the  poorer  for  this  compliance  with  the 
wishes  of  those  who  lead  our  ceremonies  !  ” 

“  She  will  not  go  portionless  to  the  house  of  her  hus¬ 
band,”  returned  the  father,  coloring  with  secret  pride  ;  for 
to  one  to  whom  the  chances  of  life  left  so  few  sources  of 
satisfaction,  those  that  were  possessed  became  doubly  dear. 

“  This  is  well !  A  right  worthy  couple  !  And  I  doubt 
not,  a  meet  companion  will  your  offspring  prove.  Monsieur 


252 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


le  Notaire,  call  off  the  names  of  these  good  people  aloud, 
that  they  may  sign,  at  least,  with  a  decent  parade.” 

“  It  is  settled  otherwise,”  hastily  answered  the  functionary 
of  the  quill,  who  was  necessarily  in  the  secret  of  Christine’s 
origin,  and  who  had  been  well  bribed  to  observe  discretion. 
“  It  would  altogether  derange  the  order  and  regularity  of 
the  proceedings.” 

“  As  thou  wilt ;  for  I  would  have  nothing  illegal,  and, 
least  of  all,  anything  disorderly.  But  o’  Heaven’s  sake  !  let 
us  get  through  with  our  penmanship,  for  I  hear  there  are 
symptoms  that  the  meats  are  likely  to  be  overbaked. 
Canst  thou  write,  good  man  ?  ” 

“  Indifferently,  mein  Herr  ;  but  in  a  way  to  make  what  I 
will  binding  before  the  law.” 

“  Give  the  quill  to  the  bride,  Mr.  Notary,  and  let  us  pro¬ 
tract  the  happy  event  no  longer.” 

The  bailiff  here  bent  his  head  aside  and  whispered  to  an 
attendant  to  hurry  towards  the  kitchens  and  to  look  to  the 
affairs  of  the  banquet.  Christine  took  the  pen  with  a 
trembling  hand  and  pallid  cheek,  and  was  about  to  apply  it 
to  the  paper,  when  a  sudden  cry  from  the  throng  diverted 
the  attention* of  all  present  to  a  new  matter  of  interest. 

“  Who  dares  thus  indecently  interrupt  this  grave  scene, 
and  that,  too,  in  so  great  a  presence  ?  ”  sternly  demanded 
the  bailiff. 

Pippo,  who  with  the  other  prisoners  had  unavoidably 
been  inclosed  in  the  space  near  the  estrade  by  the  pressure 
of  the  multitude,  staggered  more  into  view,  and  removing 
his  cap  with  a  well  managed  respect,  presented  himself 
humbly  to  the  sight  of  Peterchen. 

“  It  is  I,  illustrious  and  excellent  governor,”  returned  the 
wily  Neapolitan,  who  retained  just  enough  of  the  liquor  he 
had  swallowed  to  render  him  audacious,  without  weakening 
his  means  of  observation.  “  It  is  I,  Pippo  ;  an  artist  of 
humble  pretensions,  but,  I  hope,  a  very  honest  man,  and, 
as  I  know,  a  great  reverencer  of  the  laws,  and  a  true  friend 
to  order.” 

“  Let  the  good  man  speak  up  boldly.  A  man  of  these 
principles  has  a  right  to  be  heard.  We  live  in  a  time  of 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


253 


damnable  innovations,  and  of  most  atrocious  attempts  to 
overturn  the  altar,  the  state,  and  the  public  trusts,  and  the 
sentiments  of  such  a  man  are  like  dew  to  the  parched 
grass.” 

The  reader  is  not  to  imagine,  from  the  language  of  the 
bailiff,  that  Vaud  stood  on  the  eve  of  any  great  political 
commotion,  but,  as  the  government  was  in  itself  an  usurpa¬ 
tion,  and  founded  on  the  false  principle  of  exclusion,  it  was 
quite  as  usual  then,  as  now,  to  cry  out  against  the  moral 
throes  of  violated  right,  since  the  same  eagerness  to  possess, 
the  same  selfishness  in  grasping,  however  unjustly  obtained, 
and  the  same  audacity  of  assertion  with  a  view  to  mystify, 
pervaded  the  Christian  world  a  century  since  as  exist  to¬ 
day.  The  cunning  Pippo  saw  that  the  bait  had  taken,  and, 
assuming  a  still  more  respectful  and  loyal  mien,  he  con¬ 
tinued  :  — 

“  Although  a  stranger,  illustrious  governor,  I  have  had 
great  delight  in  these  joyous  and  excellent  ceremonies. 
Their  fame  will  be  spread  far  and  near,  and  men  will  talk 
of  little  else  for  the  coming  year  but  of  Vevey  and  its  festi¬ 
val.  But  a  great  scandal  hangs  over  your  honorable  heads 
which  it  is  in  my  power  to  turn  aside,  and  San  Gennaro 
forbid  that  I,  a  stranger,  that  hath  been  well  entertained  in 
your  town,  should  hesitate  about  raising  his  voice  on  ac¬ 
count  of  any  scruples  of  modesty  !  No  doubt,  great  gov¬ 
ernor,  your  eccellenza  believes  that  this  worthy  Vevaisan 
is  about  to  wive  a  creditable  maiden,  whose  name  could  be 
honorably  mentioned  with  those  of  the  ceremonies  and  your 
town,  before  the  proudest  company  in  Europe  ?  ” 

“  What  of  this,  fellow  ?  The  girl  is  fair,  and  modest 
enough,  at  least  to  the  eye,  and  if  thou  knowest  aught  else, 
whisper  thy  secret  to  her  husband  or  her  friends,  but  do  not 
come  in  this  rude  manner  to  disturb  our  harmony  with  thy 
raven  throat,  just  as  we  are  ready  to  sing  an  epithalamium 
in  honor  of  the  happy  pair.  Your  excessive  particularity  is 
the  curse  of  wedlock,  my  friends,  and  I  have  a  great  mind 
.  to  send  this  knave,  in  spite  of  all  his  profession  of  order, 
wdiicli  is  like  enough  to  produce  disorder,  for  a  month  or 
two  into  our  Vevey  dungeon  for  his  pains.” 


254 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Pippo  was  staggered,  for,  just  drunk  enough  to  be  auda¬ 
cious,  he  had  not  all  his  faculties  at  his  perfect  command, 
and  his  usual  acumen  was  a  little  at  fault.  Still,  accus¬ 
tomed  to  brave  public  opinion,  and  to  carry  himself  through 
the  failures  of  his  exhibitions  by  heavier  drafts  on  the 
patience  and  credulity  of  his  audience,  he  determined  to 
persevere  as  the  most  likely  way  of  extricating  himself  from 
the  menaced  consequences  of  his  indiscretion. 

“  A  thousand  pardons,  great  bailiff,”  he  answered. 
“  Naught  but  a  burning  desire  to  do  justice  to  your  high 
honor,  and  to  the  reputation  of  the  abbaye’s  festival,  could 
have  led  me  so  far,  but  ”  — 

“  Speak  thy  mind  at  once,  rogue,  and  have  done  with 
circumlocution.” 

“  I  have  little  to  say,  Signore,  except  that  the  father 
of  this  illustrious  bride,  who  is  about  to  honor  Vevey  by 
making  her  nuptials  an  occasion  for  all  in  the  city  to  witness 
and  to  favor,  is  the  common  headsman  of  Berne  —  a  wretch 
who  lately  came  near  to  prove  the  destruction  of  more 
Christians  than  the  law  has  condemned,  and  who  is  suffi¬ 
ciently  out  of  favor  with  Heaven  to  bring  the  fate  of 
Gomorrah  upon  your  town  !  ” 

Pippo  tottered  to  his  station  among  the  prisoners,  with 
the  manner  of  one  who  had  delivered  himself  of  an  impor¬ 
tant  trust,  and  was  instantly  lost  to  view.  So  rapid  and 
unlooked  for  had  been  the  interruption,  and  so  vehement 
the  utterance  of  the  Italian  while  delivering  his  facts,  that 
though  several  present  saw  their  tendency  when  it  was  too 
late,  none  had  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  prevent  the 
exposure.  A  murmur  arose  in  the  crowd,  which  stirred 
like  a  vast  sheet  of  fluid  on  which  a  passing  gust  had 
alighted,  and  then  became  fixed  and  calm.  Of  all  present, 
the  bailiff  manifested  the  least  surprise  or  concern,  for  to 
him  the  last  minister  of  the  law  was  an  object,  if  not  pre¬ 
cisely  of  respect,  of  politic  good-will  rather  than  of  dis¬ 
honor. 

“  What  of  this !  ”  he  answered,  in.  the  way  of  one  who 
had  expected  a  far  more  important  revelation.  “  What  of 
this,  should  it  be  true  !  Harkee,  friend,  —  art  thou,  in 


THE  HEADSMAN.  255 

sooth,  the  noted  Balthazar,  he  to  whose  family  the  canton 
is  indebted  for  so  much  fair  justice  ?  ” 

Balthazar  saw  that  his  secret  was  betrayed,  and  that  it 
were  wiser  simply  to  admit  the  facts  than  to  have  recourse 
to  subterfuge  or  denial.  Nature,  moreover,  had  made  him 
a  man  with  strong  and  pure  propensities  for  the  truth,  and 
he  was  never  without  the  innate  consciousness  of  the  in¬ 
justice  of  which  he  had  been  made  the  victim  by  the  unfeel¬ 
ing  ordinance  of  society.  Raising  his  head,  he  looked 
around  him  with  firmness,  for  he  too,  unhappily,  had  been 
accustomed  to  act  in  the  face  of  multitudes,  and  he  answered 
the  question  of  the  baililf,  in  his  usual  mild  tone  of  voice, 
but  with  composure. 

“  Herr  Bailiff,  I  am  by  inheritance  the  last  avenger  of 
the  law.” 

“  By  my  office  !  I  like  the  title  ;  it  is  a  good  one  !  The 
last  avenger  of  the  law  !  If  rogues  will  offend,  or  dissatis¬ 
fied  spirits  plot,  there  must  be  a  hand  to  put  the  finishing 
blow  to  their  evil  works,  and  why  not  thou  as  well  as 
another !  Harkee,  officers,  shut  me  up  yonder  Italian 
knave  for  a  week  on  bread  and  water,  for  daring  to  trifle 
with  the  time  and  good-nature  of  the  public  in  this  impudent 
manner.  And  this  worthy  dame  is  thy  wife,  honest  Bal¬ 
thazar,  and  that  fair  maiden  thy  child  ;  hast  thou  more  of 
so  goodly  a  race  ?  ” 

“  God  has  blessed  me  in  my  offspring,  mein  Herr.” 

“  Aye,  God  hath  blessed  thee  !  and  a  great  blessing  it 
should  be,  as  I  know  by  bitter  experience  —  that  is,  being  a 
bachelor,  I  understand  the  misery  of  being  childless  —  I 
would  say  no  more.  Sign  the  contract,  honest  Balthazar, 
with  thy  wife  and  daughter,  that  we  may  have  an  end  of 
this.” 

The  family  of  the  proscribed  were  about  to  obey  this 
mandate,  when  Jacques  Colis  abruptly  threw  down  the 
emblems  of  a  bridegroom,  tore  the  contract  in  fragments, 
and  publicly  announced  that  he  had  changed  his  intention, 
and  that  he  would  not  wive  a  headsman’s  child.  The  public 
mind  is  usually  caught  by  any  loud  declaration  in  favor 
of  the  ruling  prejudice,  and,  after  the  first  brief  pause  of 


256 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


surprise  was  past,  the  determination  of  the  groom  was  re¬ 
ceived  with  a  shout  of  applause  that  was  immediately  followed 
by  general,  coarse,  and  deriding  laughter.  The  throng 
pressed  uj)on  the  keepers  of  the  limits  in  a  still  denser  mass, 
opposing  an  impenetrable  wall  of  human  bodies  to  the  pas¬ 
sage  of  any  in  either  direction,  and  a  dead  stillness  succeeded, 
as  if  all  present  breathlessly  awaited  the  result  of  the  singu¬ 
lar  scene. 

So  unexpected  and  sudden  was  the  purpose  of  the  groom, 
that  they  who  were  most  affected  by  it  did  not,  at  first, 
fully  comprehend  the  extent  of  the  disgrace  that  was  so 
publicly  heaped  upon  them.  The  innocent  and  un practiced 
Christine  stood  resembling  the  cold  statue  of  a  vestal,  with 
the  pen  raised  ready  to  affix  her  as  yet  untarnished  name  to 
the  contract,  in  an  attitude  of  suspense,  while  her  wonder¬ 
ing  look  followed  the  agitation  of  the  multitude,  as  the 
startled  bird,  before  it  takes  wing,  regards  a  movement 
among  the  leaves  of  the  bush.  But  there  was  no  escape 
from  the  truth.  Conviction  of  its  humiliating  nature  came 
too  soon,  and,  by  the  time  the  calm  of  intense  curiosity  had 
succeeded  to  the  momentary  excitement  of  the  spectators, 
she  was  standing  an  exquisite  but  painful  picture  of  wounded 
feminine  feeling  and  of  maiden  shame.  Her  parents,  too, 
were  stupefied  by  the  suddenness  of  the  unexpected  shock, 
and  it  was  longer  before  their  faculties  recovered  the  tone 
proper  to  meet  an  insult  so  unprovoked  and  gross. 

“  This  is  unusual,”  dryly  remarked  the  bailiff,  who  was 
the  first  to  break  the  long  and  painful  silence. 

“  It  is  brutal !  ”  warmly  interposed  the  Signor  Grimaldi. 
“  Unless  there  has  been  deception  practiced  on  the  bride¬ 
groom,  it  is  utterly  without  excuse.” 

“  Your  experience,  Signore,  has  readily  suggested  the 
true  points  in  a  very  knotty  case,  and  I  shall  proceed  with¬ 
out  delay  to  look  into  its  merits.” 

Sigismund  resumed  his  seat,  his  hand  releasing  the  sword- 
hilt  that  it  had  spontaneously  grasped  when  he  heard  this 
declaration  of  the  bailiff’s  intentions. 

“  F or  the  sake  of  thy  poor  sister,  forbear  !  ”  whispered 
the  terrified  Adelheid.  “  All  will  yet  be  well  —  all  must 


THE  HEADSMAN.  257 

be  well  —  it  is  impossible  that  one  so  sweet  and  innocent 
should  long  remain  with  her  honor  unavenged  !  ” 

The  young  man  smiled  frightfully,  at  least  so  it  seemed 
to  his  companion ;  but  he  maintained  the  appearance  of 
composure.  In  the  mean  time  Peterchen,  having  secretly 
dispatched  another  messenger  to  the  cooks,  turned  his  seri¬ 
ous  attention  to  the  difficulty  that  had  just  arisen. 

“  I  have  long  been  intrusted  by  the  council  with  honor¬ 
able  duties,”  he  said,  Ubut  never,  before  to-day,  have  I  been 
required  to  decide  upon  a  domestic  misunderstanding,  before 
the  parties  were  actually  wedded.  This  is  a  grave  inter¬ 
ruption  of  the  ceremonies  of  the  abbaye,  as  well  as  a  slight 
upon  the  notary  and  the  spectators,  and  needs  be  well  looked 
to.  Dost  thou  really  persist  in  putting  this  unusual  termi¬ 
nation  to  a  marriage-ceremony,  Herr  Bridegroom  ?  ” 

Jacques  Colis  had  lost  a  little  of  the  violent  impulse 
which  led  him  to  the  precipitate  and  inconsiderate  act  of 
destroying  an  instrument  he  had  legally  executed  ;  but  his 
outbreaking  of  feeling  was  followed  by  a  sullen  and  fixed 
resolution  to  persevere  in  the  refusal  at  every  hazard  to 
himself. 

“  I  will  not  wive  the  daughter  of  a  man  hunted  of  soci¬ 
ety,  and  avoided  by  all,”  he  doggedly  answered. 

“  No  doubt  the  respectability  of  the  parent  is  the  next 
thing  to  a  good  dowry,  in  the  choice  of  a  wife,”  returned 
the  bailiff,  “  but  one  of  thy  years  has  not  come  hither,  with¬ 
out  having  first  inquired  into  the  parentage  of  her  thou 
wert  about  to  wed  ?  ” 

“  It  was  sworn  to  me  that  the  secret  should  be  kept. 
The  girl  is  well  endowed,  and  a  promise  was  solemnly 
made  that  her  parentage  should  never  be  known.  The 
family  of  Colis  is  esteemed  in  Yaud,  and  I  would  not  have 
it  said  that  the  blood  of  the  headsman  of  the  canton  hath 
mixed  in  a  stream  as  fair  as  ours.” 

“  And  yet  thou  wert  not  unwilling,  so  long  as  the  cir¬ 
cumstance  was  unknown  ?  Thy  objection  is  less  to  the 
fact,  than  to  its  public  exposure.” 

“  Without  the  aid  of  parchments  and  tongues,  Monsieur 

le  Bailli,  we  should  all  be  equal  in  birth.  Ask  the  noble 
17 


258 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Baron  de  Willading,  who  is  seated  there  at  your  side,  why 
he  is  better  than  another.  He  will  tell  you  that  he  is 
come  of  an  ancient  and  honorable  line  ;  but  had  he  been 
taken  from  his  castle  in  infancy,  and  concealed  under  a 
feigned  name,  and  kept  from  men’s  knowledge  as  being 
that  he  is,  who  would  think  of  him  for  the  deeds  of  his 
ancestors  ?  As  the  Sire  de  Willading  would,  in  such  a 
case,  have  lost  in  the  world’s  esteem,  so  did  Christine  gain  ; 
but  as  opinion  would  return  to  the  baron,  when  the  truth 
should  be  published,  so  does  it  desert  Balthazar’s  daughter, 
when  she  is  known  to  be  a  headsman’s  child.  I  would 
have  married  the  maiden  as  she  was,  but,  your  pardon, 
Monsieur  le  Bailli,  if  I  say,  I  will  not  wive  her  as  she  is.” 

A  murmur  of  approbation  followed  this  plausible  and 
ready  apology,  for,  when  antipathies  are  active  and  bitter, 
men  are  easily  satisfied  with  a  doubtful  morality  and  a 
weak  argument. 

“  This  honest  youth  hath  some  reason  in  him,”  observed 
the  puzzled  bailiff,  shaking  his  head.  “  I  would  he  had 
been  less  expert  in  disputation,  or  that  the  secret  had  been 
better  kept !  It  is  apparent  as  the  sun  in  the  heavens, 
friend  Melchior,  that  hadst  thou  not  been  known  as  thy 
father’s  child,  thou  wouldst  not  have  succeeded  to  thy  castle 
and  lands  —  nay,  by  St.  Luke  !  not  even  to  the  rights  of 
the  biirgerschaft.” 

“  In  Genoa  we  are  used  to  hear  both  parties,”  gravely 
rejoined  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  “  that  we  may  first  make  sure 
that  we  touch  the  true  merits  of  the  case.  Were  another 
to  claim  the  Signor  de  Willading’s  honors  and  name,  thou 
wouldst  scarce  grant  his  suit,  without  questioning  our  friend 
here,  touching  his  own  rights  to  the  same.” 

“  Better  and  better !  This  is  justice,  while  that  which 
fell  from  the  bridegroom  was  only  argument.  ILarkee, 
Balthazar,  and  thou  good  woman,  his  wife  —  and  thou  too, 
pretty  Christine  —  what  have  ye  all  to  answer  to  the  rea¬ 
sonable  plea  of  Jacques  Colis  ?  ” 

Balthazar,  who,  by  the  nature  of  his  office,  and  by  his 
general  masculine  duties,  had  been  so  much  accustomed  to 
meet  with  harsh  instances  of  the  public  hatred,  soon  recov* 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


259 


ered  his  usual  calm  exterior,  even  though  he  felt  a  father’s 
pang  and  a  father's  just  resentment  at  witnessing  this  open 
injury  to  one  so  gentle  and  deserving  as  his  child.  But  the 
blow  had  been  far  heavier  on  Marguerite,  the  faithful  and 
long-continued  sharer  of  his  fortunes.  The  wife  of  Bal¬ 
thazar  was  past  the  prime  of  her  days,  but  she  still  retained 
the  presence,  and  some  of  the  personal  beauty,  which  had 
rendered  her,  in  youth,  a  woman  of  extraordinary  mien 
and  carriage.  When  the  words  which  announced  the  slight 
to  her  daughter  first  fell  on  her  ears,  she  paled  to  the  hue 
of  the  dead.  For  several  minutes  she  stood  looking  more 
like  one  that  had  taken  a  final  departure  from  the  interests 
and  emotions  of  life,  than  one  that,  in  truth,  was  a  prey  to 
one  of  the  strongest  passions  the  human  breast  can  ever 
entertain,  that  of  wounded  maternal  affection.  Then  the 
blood  stole  slowly  to  her  temples,  and,  by  the  time  the 
bailiff  put  his  question,  her  entire  face  was  glowing  under  a 
tumult  of  feeling  that  threatened  to  defeat  its  own  wishes, 
by  depriving  her  of  the  power  of  speech. 

“  Thou  canst  answer  him,  Balthazar,”  she  said  huskily, 
motioning  for  her  husband  to  arouse  his  faculties  ;  “  thou 
art  used  to  these  multitudes  and  to  their  scorn.  Thou  art 
a  man,  .and  canst  do  us  justice.” 

“  Herr  Bailiff,”  said  the  headsman,  who  seldom  lost  the 
mild  deportment  that  characterized  his  manner,  “  there  is 
much  truth  in  what  Jacques  hath  urged,  but  all  present 
may  have  seen  that  the  fault  did  not  come  of  us,  but  of 
yonder  heartless  vagabond.  The  wretch  sought  my  life  on 
the  lake,  in  our  late  unfortunate  passage  hither  ;  and,  not 
content  with  wishing  tos  rob  my  children  of  their  father,  he 
comes  now  to  injure  me  still  more  cruelly.  I  was  born  to 
the  office  I  hold,  as  you  well  know,  Herr  Hofmeister,  or  it 
would  never  have  been  sought  by  me  ;  but  what  the  law 
wills,  men  insist  upon  as  right.  This  girl  can  never  be 
called  upon  to  strike  a  head  from  its  shoulders,  and, 
knowing  from  childhood  up  the  scorn  that  awaits  all  who 
come  of  my  race,  I  sought  the  means  of  releasing  her, 
at  least,  from  some  part  of  the  curse  that  hath  descended 
on  us.” 


260 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  I  know  not  if  this  were  legal  !  ”  interrupted  the  bailiff, 
quickly.  “  What  is  your  opinion,  Herr  von  Willading  ? 
Can  any  in  Berne  escape  their  heritable  duties,  any  more 
than  hereditary  privileges  can  be  assumed  ?  This  is  a 
grave  question ;  innovation  leads  to  innovation,  and  our 
venerable  laws  and  our  sacred  usages  must  be  preserved,  if 
we  would  avert  the  curse  of  change !  ” 

“  Balthazar  hath  well  observed  that  a  female  cannot  ex¬ 
ercise  the  executioner’s  office.” 

“  True,  but  a  female  may  bring  forth  them  that  can. 
This  is  a  cunning  question  for  the  doctors-in-law,  and  it 
must  be  examined  ;  of  all  damnable  offenses,  Heaven  keep 
me  from  that  of  a  wish  for  change.  If  change  is  ever  to 
follow,  why  establish  ?  Change  is  the  unpardonable  sin  in 
politics,  Signor  Grimaldi ;  since  that  which  is  often  changed 
becomes  valueless  in  time,  even  if  it  be  coin.” 

“  The  mother  hath  something  she  would  utter,”  said  the 
Genoese,  whose  quick  but  observant  eye  had  been  watching 
the  workings  of  the  countenances  of  the  repudiated  family, 
while  the  bailiff  was  digressing  in  his  usual  prolix  manner 
on  things  in  general,  and  who  detected  the  throes  of  feel¬ 
ing  which  heaved  the  bosom  of  the  respectable  Marguerite, 
in  a  way  to  announce  a  speedy  birth  to  her  thoughts. 

“  Hast  thou  aught  to  urge,  good  woman  ?  ”  demanded 
Peterchen,  who  was  well  enough  disposed  to  hear  both 
sides  in  all  cases  of  controversy,  unless  they  happened  to 
touch  the  supremacy  of  the  great  canton.  “  To  speak  the 
truth,  the  reasons  of  Jacques  Colis  are  plausible  and  witty, 
and  are  likely  to  weigh  heavy  against  thee.” 

The  color  slowly  disappeared  from  the  brow  of  the 
mother,  and  she  turned  such  a  look  of  fondness  and  pro¬ 
tection  on  her  child,  as  spoke  a  complete  condensation  of 
all  her  feelings  in  the  engrossing  sentiment  of  a  mother’s 
love. 

“  Have  I  aught  to  urge  !  ”  slowly  repeated  Marguerite, 
looking  steadily  about  her  at  the  curious  and  unfeeling 
crowd,  which,  bent  on  the  indulgence  of  its  appetite  for 
novelty,  and  excited  by  its  prejudices,  still  pressed  upon  the 
halberds  of  the  officers,  —  “  has  a  mother  aught  to  say  in 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


261 


defense  of  her  injured  and  insulted  child !  Why  hast  thou 
not  also  asked,  Herr  Hofmeister,  if  I  am  human?  We 
come  of  proscribed  races,  I  know,  Balthazar  and  I,  but  like 
thee,  proud  bailiff,  and  the  privileged  at  thy  side,  we  come 
too  of  God !  The  judgment  and  power  of  men  have 
crushed  us  from  the  beginning,  and  we  are  used  to  the 
world’s  scorn  and  to  the  world’s  injustice  !  ” 

“  Say  not  so,  good  woman,  for  no  more  is  required  than 
the  law  sanctions.  Thou  art  now  talking  against  thine  own 
interests,  and  I  interrupt  thee  in  pure  mercy.  ’Twould  be 
scandalous  in  me  to  sit  here  and  listen  to  one  that  hath 
bespattered  the  law  with  an  evil  tongue.” 

“  I  know  naught  of  the  subtleties  of  thy  laws,  but  well 
do  I  know  their  cruelty  and  wrongs,  as  respects  me  and 
mine  !  All  others  come  into  the  world  with  hope,  but  we 
have  been  crushed  from  the  beginning.  That  surely  cannot 
be  just  which  destroys  hope.  Even  the  sinner  need  not 
despair,  through  the  mercy  of  the  Son  of  God !  but  we, 
that  have  come  into  the  world  under  thy  laws,  have  little 
before  us  in  life  but  shame  and  the  scorn  of  men !  ” 

“  Nay,  thou  quite  mistakest  the  matter,  dame ;  these 
privileges  were  first  bestowed  on  thy  families  in  reward  for 
good  services,  I  make  no  doubt,  and  it  was  long  accounted 
profitable  to  be  of  this  office.” 

“  I  do  not  say  that  in  a  darker  age,  when  oppression 
stalked  over  the  land,  and  the  best  were  barbarous  as  the 
worst  to-day,  some  of  those  of  whom  we  are  born  may  not 
have  been  fierce  and  cruel  enough  to  take  upon  themselves 
this  office  with  good  will ;  but  I  deny  that  any  short  of 
Him  who  holds  the  universe  in  his  hand,  and  who  controls 
an  endless  future  to  compensate  for  the  evils  of  the  present 
time,  has  the  power  to  say  to  the  son,  that  he  shall  be  the 
heritor  of  the  father’s  wrongs  !  ” 

“  How  !  dost  question  the  doctrine  of  descents  ?  We 
shall  next  hear  thee  dispute  the  rights  of  the  biirger- 
schaft !  ” 

u  I  know  nothing,  Herr  Bailiff,  of  the  nice  distinctions  of 
your  rights  in  the  city,  and  wish  to  utter  naught  for  or 
against.  But  an  entire  life  of  contumely  and  bitterness  is 


262 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


apt  to  become  a  life  of  thoughtful  ness  and  care  ;  and  I  see 
sufficient  difference  between  the  preservation  of  privileges 
fairly  earned,  though  even  these  may  and  do  bring  with 
them  abuses  hard  to  be  borne,  and  the  unmerited  oppression 
of  the  offspring  for  the  ancestors’  faults.  There  is  little  of 
that  justice  which  savors  of  Heaven  in  this,  and  the  time 
will  come  when  a  fearful  return  will  be  made  for  wrongs  so 
sore  !  ” 

“  Concern  for  thy  pretty  daughter,  good  Marguerite, 
causes  thee  to  speak  strongly.”- 

“  Is  not  the  daughter  of  a  headsman  and  a  headsman’s 
wife  their  offspring,  as  much  as  the  fair  maiden  who  sits 
near  thee  is  the  child  of  the  noble  at  her  side  ?  Am  I  to 
love  her  less,  that  she  is  despised  by  a  cruel  world  ?  Had 
I  not  the  same  suffering  at  the  birth,  the  same  joy  in  the 
infant  smile,  the  same  hope  in  the  childish  promise,  and  the 
same  trembling  for  her  fate  when  I  consented  to  trust  her 
happiness  to  another,  as  she  that  bore  that  more  fortunate 
but  not  fairer  maiden  hath  had  in  her  ?  Hath  God  created 
two  natures  —  two  yearnings  for  the  mother  —  two  longings 
for  our  children’s  wreal-  —  those  of  the  rich  and  honored, 
and  those  of  the  crushed  and  despised  ?  ” 

“  Go  to,  good  Marguerite ;  thou  puttest  the  matter  alto¬ 
gether  in  a  manner  that  is  unusual.  Are  our  reverenced 
usages  nothing  —  our  solemn  edicts  —  our  city’s  rule  —  and 
our  resolution  to  govern,  and  that  fairly  and  with  effect  ?  ” 

“  I  fear  that  these  are  stronger  than  the  right,  and  likely 
to  endure  when  the  tears  of  the  oppressed  are  exhausted, 
when  they  and  their  fates  shall  be  forgotten  !  ” 

“  Thy  child  is  fair  and  modest,”  observed  the  Signor 
Grimaldi,  “  and  will  yet  find  a  youth  who  will  more  than 
atone  for  this  injury.  He  that  has  rejected  her  was  not 
worthy  of  her  faith.” 

Marguerite  turned  her  look,  which  had  been  glowing 
with  awakened  feeling,  on  her  pale  and  still  motionless 
daughter.  The  expression  of  her  eyes  softened,  and  she 
folded  her  child  to  her  bosom,  as  the  dove  shelters  its  young. 
All  her  aroused  feelings  appeared  to  dissolve  in  the  senti¬ 
ment  of  love. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


263 


“  My  child  is  fair,  Herr  Peter,”  she  continued,  without 
adverting  to  the  interruption ;  “  but  better  than  fair,  she  is 
good !  Christine  is  gentle  and  dutiful,  and  not  for  a  world 
would  she  braise  the  spirit  of  another  as  hers  has  been  this 
day  bruised.  Humbled  as  we  are,  and  despised  of  men, 
bailiff,  we  have  our  thoughts,  aud  our  wishes,  and  our  hopes, 
and  memory,  and  all  the  other  feelings  of  those  that  are 
more  fortunate ;  and  when  I  have  racked  my  brain  to 
reason  on  the  justice  of  a  fate  which  has  condemned  all  of 
my  race  to  have  little  other  communion  with  their  kind  but 
that  of  blood,  and  when  bitterness  has  swollen  at  my  heart, 
aye,  near  to  bursting,  and  I  have  been  ready  to  curse  Prov¬ 
idence  and  die,  this  mild,  affectionate  girl  hath  been  near 
to  quench  the  fire  that  consumed  me,  and  to  tighten  the 
cords  of  life,  until  her  love  and  innocence  have  left  me 
willing  to  live  even  under  a  heavier  load  than  this  I  bear. 
Thou  art  of  an  honored  race,  bailiff,  and  canst  little  under¬ 
stand  most  of  our  suffering ;  but  thou  art  a  man,  and 
shouldst  know  what  it  is  to  be  wounded  through  another, 
and  that  one  who  is  dearer  to  thee  than  thine  own  flesh.” 

“  Thy  words  are  strong,  good  Marguerite,”  again  inter¬ 
rupted  the  bailiff,  who  felt  an  uneasiness  of  which  he  would 
very  gladly  be  rid.  “  Himmel !  Who  can  like  anything 
better  than  his  own  flesh  ?  Besides,  thou  shouldst  remem¬ 
ber  that  I  am  a  bachelor,  and  bachelors  are  apt,  naturally, 
to  feel  more  for  their  own  flesh  than  for  that  of  others. 
Stand  aside,  and  let  the  procession  pass,  that  we  may  go  to 
the  banquet,  which  waits.  If  Jacques  Colis  will  none  of 
thy  girl,  I  have  not  the  power  to  make  him.  Double  the 
dowry,  good  woman,  and  thou  shalt  have  a  choice  of  hus¬ 
bands,  in  spite  of  the  axe  and  the  sword  that  are  in  thy 
escutcheon.  Let  the  halberdiers  make  way  for  those 
honest  people  there,  who,  at  least,  are  functionaries  of  the 
law,  and  are  to  be  protected  as  well  as  ourselves.” 

The  crowd  obeyed,  yielding  readily  to  the  advance  of  the 
officers,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  the  useless  attendants  of  the 
village  nuptials,  and  the  train  of  Hymen,  slunk  away, 
sensible  of  the  ridicule  that,  in  a  double  degree,  attaches 
itself  to  folly,  when  it  fails  of  effecting  even  its  own 
absurdities. 


264 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  weeping  blood  in  woman’s  breast 
Was  never  known  to  thee; 

Nor  the  balm  that  drops  on  wounds  of  woe 
From  woman’s  pitying  e’e. 

Burns. 

A  large  portion  of  the  curious  followed  the  disconcerted 
mummers  from  the  square,  while  others  hastened  to  break 
their  fasts  at  the  several  places  selected  for  this  important 
feature  in  the  business  of  the  day.  Most  of  those  who  had 
been  on  the  estrade  now  left  it,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  the 
living  carpet  of  heads  around  the  little  area  in  front  of  the 
bailiff  was  reduced  to  a  few  hundreds  of  those  whose  better 
feelings  were  stronger  than  their  self-indulgence.  Perhaps 
this  distribution  of  the  multitude  is  about  in  the  proportion 
that  is  usually  found  in  those  cases  in  which  selfishness 
draws  in  one  direction,  while  feeling  or  sympathy  with  the 
wronged  pulls  in  another,  among  all  masses  of  human  beings 
that  are  congregated  as  spectators  of  some  general  and  in¬ 
different  exhibition  of  interests  in  which  they  have  no  near 
personal  concern. 

The  bailiff  and  his  immediate  friends,  the  prisoners,  and 
the  family  of  the  headsman,  with  a  sufficient  number  of  the 
guards,  were  among  those  who  remained.  The  bustling 
Peterchen  had  lost  some  of  his  desire  to  take  his  place  at 
the  banquet,  in  the  difficulties  of  the  question  which  had 
arisen,  and  in  the  certainty  that  nothing  material,  in  the 
way  of  gastronomy,  would  be  attempted  until  he  appeared. 
We  should  do  injustice  to  his  heart,  did  we  not  add,  also, 
than  he  had  troublesome  qualms  of  conscience,  which  intui¬ 
tively  admonished  him  that  the  world  had  dealt  hardly  with 
the  family  of  Balthazar.  There  remained  the  party  of 
Maso,  too,  to  dispose  of,  and  his  character  of  an  upright  as 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


265 


well  as  of  a  firm  magistrate  to  maintain.  As  the  crowd 
diminished,  however,  he  and  those  near  him  descended  from 
their  high  places,  and  mixed  with  the  few  who  occupied  the 
still  guarded  area  in  front  of  the  stage. 

Balthazar  had  not  stirred  from  his  riveted  posture  near 
the  table  of  the  notary,  for  he  shrank  from  encountering,  in 
the  company  of  his  wife  and  daughter,-  the  insults  to  which 
he  should  be  exposed  now  his  character  was  known,  by 
mingling  with  the  crowd,  and  he  waited  for  a  favorable 
moment  to  withdraw  unseen.  Marguerite  still  stood  folding 
Christine  to  her  bosom,  as  if  jealous  of  further  injury  to  her 
beloved.  The  recreant  bridegroom  had  taken  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  disappear,  and  was  seen  no  more  in  Vevey 
during  the  remainder  of  the  revels. 

Peterchen  cast  a  hurried  glance  at  this  group,  as  his  foot 
reached  the  ground,  and  then  turning  towards  the  thief- 
takers  he  made  a  sign  for  them  to  advance  with  their 
prisoners. 

“  Thy  evil  tongue  has  balked  one  of  the  most  engaging 
rites  of  the  day’s  festival,  knave,”  observed  the  bailiff,  ad¬ 
dressing  Pippo  with  a  certain  magisterial  reproof  in  his 
voice.  “  I  should  do  well  to  send  thee  to  Berne,  to  serve  a 
month  among  those  who  sweep  the  city  streets,  as  a  punish¬ 
ment  for  thy  raven  throat.  What,  in  the  name  of  all  thy 
Roman  saints  and  idols,  hadst  thou  against  the  happiness  of 
these  honest  people,  that  thou  must  come,  in  this  unseemly 
manner,  to  destroy  it  ?  ” 

u  Naught  but  the  love  of  truth,  eccellenza,  and  a  just 
horror  of  the  man  of  blood.” 

“  That  thou  and  all  like  thee  should  have  a  horror  of  the 
ministers  of  the  law,  I  can  understand  ;  and  it  is  more  than 
probable  that  thy  dislike  will  extend  to  me,  for  I  am  about 
to  pronounce  a  just  judgment  on  thee  and  thy  fellows  for 
disturbing  the  harmony  of  the  day,  and  especially  for  hav¬ 
ing  been  guilty  of  the  enormous  crime  of  an  outrage  on  our 
agents.” 

“  Couldst  thou  grant  me  a  moment’s  leave  ?  ”  asked  the 
Genoese  in  his  ear. 

“  An  hour,  noblQ  Gaetano,  if  thou  wilt.” 


266 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  two  then  conversed  apart,  for  a  minute  or  more. 
During  the  brief  dialogue,  the  Signor  Grimaldi  occasionally 
looked  at  the  quiet  and  apparently  contrite  Maso,  and 
stretched  his  arm  towards  the  Leman,  in  a  way  to  give  the 
observers  an  inkling  of  his  subject.  The  countenance  of  the 
Herr  Hofmeister  changed  from  official  sternness  to  an  ex¬ 
pression  of  decent  concern  as  he  listened,  and  ere  long  it 
took  a  decidedly  forgiving  laxity  of  muscle.  When  the 
other  had  done  speaking,  he  bowed  a  ready  assent  to  what 
he  had  just  heard,  and  returned  to  the  prisoners. 

“  As  I  have  just  observed,”  he  resumed,  u  it  is  my  duty 
now  to  pronounce  finally  on  these  men  and  their  conduct. 
Firstly,  they  are  strangers,  and  as  such  are  not  only  ignorant 
of  our  laws,  but  entitled  to  our  hospitality ;  next,  they  have 
been  punished  sufficiently  for  the  original  offense,  by  being 
abridged  of  the  day’s  sports ;  and  as  to  the  crime  com¬ 
mitted  against  ourselves,  in  the  person  of  our  agents,  it  is 
freely  forgiven,  for  forgiveness  is  a  generous  quality,  and 
becomes  a  paternal  form  of  rule.  Depart  therefore,  of  God’s 
name  !  all  of  ye  to  a  man,  and  remember  henceforth  to  be 
discreet.  Signore,  and  you,  Herr  Baron,  shall  we  to  the 
banquet  ? ” 

The  two  old  friends  had  already  moved  onward,  in  close 
and  earnest  discourse,  and  the  bailiff  was  obliged  to  seek  out 
another  companion.  None  offered,  at  the  moment,  but  Sig- 
ismund,  who  had  stood,  since  quitting  the  stage,  in  an  atti¬ 
tude  of  complete  indecision  and  helplessness,  notwithstanding 
his  great  physical  energy  and  his  usual  moral  readiness  to 
act.  Taking  the  arm  of  the  young  soldier,  with  the  disre¬ 
gard  of  ceremony  that  denotes  a  sense  of  condescension,  the 
bailiff  drew  him  away  from  the  spot,  heedless  himself  of  the 
other’s  reluctance,  and  without  observing  that,  in  consequence 
of  the  general  desertion,  for  few  were  disposed  to  indulge 
their  compassion  unless  it  were  in  company  with  the  honored 
and  noble,  Adelheid  was  left  absolutely  alone  with  the 
family  of  Balthazar. 

“  This  office  of  a  headsman,  Herr  Sigismund,”  com¬ 
menced  the  unobservant  Peterchen,  too  full  of  his  own 
opinions,  and  much  too  sensible  of  his  right  to  be  delivered 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


267 


of  them  in  the  presence  of  his  junior  and  inferior,  to  note 
the  youth’s  trouble,  “  is  at  the  best  but  a  disgusting  affair  ; 
though  we,  of  station  and  authority,  are  obliged  prudently 
to  appear  to  deem  it  otherwise  before  the  people,  in  our 
own  interest.  Thou  hast  had  occasion  to  remark  often,  in 
the  discipline  of  thy  military  followers,  that  a  false  coloring 
must  be  put  upon  things,  lest  they  who  are  very  necessary 
to  the  state  should  not  think  the  state  quite  so  necessary  to 
them.  What  is  thy  opinion,  Captain  Sigismund,  as  a  man 
who  has  yet  his  hopes  and  his  views  on  the  softer  sex,  of 
this  act  of  Jacques  Colis  ?  Is  it  conduct  to  be  approved  of, 
or  to  be  condemned  ?  ” 

“  I  deem  him  a  heartless,  mercenary  miscreant !  ” 

The  suppressed  energy  with  which  these  unexpected 
words  were  uttered  caused  the  bailiff  to  stop  and  to  look  up 
in  his  companion’s  face,  as  if  to  ask  its  reason.  But  there 
all  was  already  calm,  for  the  young  man  had  too  long  been 
accustomed  to  drill  its  expression,  when  the  sensitive  sore 
of  his  origin  was  probed,  as  so  frequently  happened,  to  per¬ 
mit  the  momentary  weakness  long  to  maintain  its  ascend¬ 
ency. 

“  Aye,  this  is  the  opinion  of  thy  years,”  resumed  Peter- 
chen.  “  Thou  art  at  a  time  of  life  when  we  esteem  a  pretty 
face  and  a  mellow  eye  of  more  account  even  than  gold. 
But  we  put  on  our  interested  spectacles  after  thirty,  and 
seldom  see  anything  very  admirable,  that  is  not  at  the  same 
time  very  lucrative.  Here  is  Melchior  de  Willading’a 
daughter,  now,  a  woman  to  set  a  city  in  a  blaze,  for  she 
hath  wit,  and  lands,  and  beauty,  besides  good  blood  ;  what, 
for  instance,  is  thy  opinion  of  her  merit?” 

“  That  she  is  deserving  of  all  the  happiness  that  every 
human  excellence  ought  to  confer !  ” 

“  Hum  —  thou  art  nearer  to  thirty  than  I  had  thought 
thee,  Herr  Sigismund !  But  touching  this  Balthazar,  thou 
art  not  to  believe,  on  account  of  the  few  words  of  grace 
which  fell  from  me,  that  my  aversion  for  the  wretch  is  less 
than  thine,  or  than  that  of  any  other  honest  man  ;  but  it 
would  be  unseemly  and  unwise  in  a  bailiff  to  desert  the 
last  minister  of  the  law’s  decrees  in  the  face  of  the  public. 


268 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


There  are  feelings  and  sentiments  that  are  natural  to  us  all, 
and  among  them  are  to  be  classed  respect  and  honor  for  the 
well  and  nobly  born  ”  (the  discourse  was  in  German), 
“and  hatred  and  contempt  for  those  who  are  condemned  of 
men.  These  are  feelings  which  belong  to  human  nature 
itself,  and  God  forbid  that  I,  a  man  already  past  the  age 
of  romance,  should  really  entertain  any  sentiments  that  are 
not  strictly  human.” 

“  Do  they  not  rather  belong  to  abuses  —  to  our  prej¬ 
udices  ?  ” 

“  The  difference  is  not  material,  in  a  practical  view, 
young  man.  That  which  is  fairly  bred  into  the  mind,  by 
discipline  and  habit,  gets  to  be  stronger  than  instinct,  or 
even  than  one  of  the  senses.  Let  there  be  an  unseemly 
sight,  or  a  foul  smell  near  thee,  and  thou  hast  only  to  turn 
thy  eyes,  or  hold  thy  nose,  to  be  rid  of  it ;  but  I  could 
never  find  the  means  to  lessen  a  prejudice  that  was  once 
fairly  seated  in  the  mind.  Thou  mayest  look  whither  thou 
wilt,  and  shut  out  the  unsavory  odors  of  the  imagination  by 
all  the  means  thou  canst  invent,  but  if  a  man  is,  in  truth, 
condemned  of  opinion,  he  might  as  well  make  his  appeal  to 
God  at  once  for  justice,  as  to  any  mercy  he  is  likely  to 
receive  from  men.  This  much  have  I  learned  in  my  expe¬ 
rience  as  a  public  functionary.” 

“  I  should  hope  that  these  are  not  the  legal  dogmas  of 
our  ancient  canton,”  returned  the  youth,  conquering  his 
feelings,  though  it  cost  him  a  severe  effort. 

“  As  far  from  it  as  Basle  is  from  Coire.  We  hold  no 
such  discreditable  doctrines.  I  challenge  the  world  to  show 
a  state  that  possesses  a  fairer  set  of  maxims  than  ourselves, 
and  we  even  endeavor  to  make  our  practice  chime  in  with 
our  opinions,  whenever  it  can  be  done  in  safety.  No,  in 
these  particulars,  Berne  is  a  paragon  of  a  community,  and 
as  rarely  says  one  thing  and  does  another,  as  any  govern¬ 
ment  you  shall  see.  What  I  now  tell  thee,  young  man,  is 
said  to  thee  in  the  familiarity  of  a  fete,  as  thou  know’s t,  in 
which  there  have  been  some  fooleries,  to  open  confidence 
and  to  loosen  the  tongue.  We  openly  and  loudly  profess 
great  truth  and  equality  before  the  law,  saving  the  city’s 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


269 


rights,  and  to  take  holy,  heavenly,  upright  justice  for  our 
guide  in  all  matters  of  theory.  Himmel !  If  thou  wouldst 
have  thy  affair  decided  on  principle,  go  before  the  councils, 
or  the  magistracy  of  the  canton,  and  thou  shalt  hear  such 
wisdom,  and  witness  such  keen-sightedness  into  chicanery, 
as  would  have  honored  Solomon  himself!  ” 

“  And  notwithstanding  this,  prejudice  is  a  general  master.” 

“  How  canst  thou  have  it  otherwise  ?  Is  not  a  man  a 
man  ?  Will  he  not  lean  as  he  has  been  weighed  upon  ?  — 
does  not  the  tree  grow  in  the  way  the  twig  is  bent?  No, 
while  I  adore  justice,  Herr  Sigismund,  as  becomes  a  bailiff, 
I  confess  to  both  prejudice  and  partiality,  mentally  con¬ 
sidered.  Now,  yonder  maiden,  the  pretty  Christine,  lost 
some  of  her  grace  in  my  eyes,  as  no  doubt  she  did  in  thine, 
when  the  truth  came  to  be  known  that  she  was  Balthazar’s 
child.  The  girl  is  fair  and  modest  and  winning  in  her  way ; 
but  there  is  something  —  I  cannot  tell  thee  what  —  but  a 
certain  damnable  something  —  a  taint  —  a  color  —  a  hue 
— -a  —  a  —  a  —  that  showed  her  origin  the  instant  I  heard 
who  was  her  parent ;  was  it  not  so  with  thee  ?  ” 

“  When  her  origin  was  proved,  but  not  previously.” 

“Aye,  of  a  certainty;  I  mean  not  otherwise.  But  a 
thing  is  not  seen  any  the  worse  because  it  is  seen  thor¬ 
oughly,  although  it  may  be  seen  falsely  when  there  are 
false  covers  to  conceal  its  ugliness.  Particularity  is  nec¬ 
essary  to  philosophy.  Ignorance  is  a  mask  to  conceal  the 
little  details  that  are  necessary  to  knowledge.  Your  Moor 
might  pass  for  a  Christian  in  a  mask,  but  strip  him  of  his 
covering  and  the  true  shade  of  the  skin  is  seen.  Didst 
thou  not  observe,  for  instance,  in  all  that  touches  feminine 
grace  and  perfection,  the  manifest  difference  between  the 
daughter  of  Melchior  de  Willading  and  the  daughter  of  this 
Balthazar  ?  ” 

“  There  was  the  difference  between  a  maiden  of  most 
honored  and  happy  extraction  and  a  maiden  most  miserably 
condemned  !  ” 

“  Nay,  the  Demoiselle  de  Willading  is  the  fairer.” 

“Nature  has  certainly  been  most  bountiful  to  the  heiress 
of  Willading,  Herr  Bailiff,  who  is  scarcely  less  attractive 


270 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


for  her  female  grace  and  goodness,  than  she  is  fortunate  in 
the  accidents  of  birth  and  condition.” 

“  I  knew  thou  couldst  not,  in  secret,  be  of  a  different 
mind  from  the  rest  of  men  !  ”  exclaimed  Peterchen  in 
triumph,  for  he  took  the  warmth  of  his  companion’s  man¬ 
ner  to  be  a  reluctant  and  half-concealed  assent  to  his  own 
proposition.  Here  the  discourse  ended  ;  for,  the  earnest 
conference  between  Melchior  and  the  Signor  Grimaldi 
having  terminated,  the  bailiff  hastened  to  join  his  more 
important  guests,  and  Sigismund  was  released  from  an 
examination  that  had  harrowed  every  feeling  of  his  soul, 
while  he  even  despised  the  besotted  loquacity  of  the  man 
who  had  been  the  instrument  of  his  torture. 

The  separation  of  Adelheid  from  her  father  was  antici¬ 
pated  and  previously  provided  for ;  since  the  men  were  ex¬ 
pected  to  resort  to  the  banquet  at  this  hour.  She  had  con¬ 
tinued  near  Christine  and  her  mother,  therefore,  without 
attracting  any  unusual  attention  to  her  movements,  even  in 
those  who  were  the  objects  of  her  sympathy,  a  feeling  that 
was  so  natural  in  one  of  her  years  and  sex.  A  male  attend¬ 
ant,  in  the  livery  of  her  father’s  house,  remained  near  her 
person,  a  protector  who  was  certain  to  insure  not  only  her 
safety  in  the  thronged  streets  of  the  town,  but  to  exact 
from  those  whose  faculties  were  beginning  to  yield  to  the 
excesses  of  the  occasion  the  testimonials  of  respect  that 
were  due  to  her  station.  It  was  under  these  circumstances, 
then,  that  the  more  honored,  and,  to  the  eyes  of  the  un¬ 
instructed,  the  happier  of  these  maidens,  approached  the 
other,  when  curiosity  was  so  far  appeased  as  to  have  left 
the  family  of  Balthazar  nearly  alone  in  the  centre  of  the 
square. 

“  Is  there  no  friendly  roof  near,  to  which  thou  canst 
withdraw  ?  ”  asked  the  heiress  of  Willading  of  the  mother 
of  the  pallid  and  scarcely  conscious  Christine ;  “  thou 
wouldst  do  better  to  seek  some  shelter  and  privacy  for  thy 
unoffending  and  much  injured  child.  If  any  that  belong  to 
me  can  be  of  service,  I  pray  that  thou  wilt  command  as 
freely  as  if  they  were  followers  of  thine  own.” 

Marguerite  had  never  before  spoken  with  a  female  of  a 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


271 


rank  superior  to  the  ordinary  classes.  The  ample  means 
of  both  her  father’s  and  her  husband’s  family  had  furnished 
all  that  was  necessary  to  the  improvement  of  the  mind  of 
one  in  her  station,  and  perhaps  she  had  been  the  gainer, 
in  mere  deportment,  by  having  been  greatly  excluded,  by 
their  prejudices,  from  association  with  females  of  her  own 
condition.  As  is  often  seen  among  those  who  have  the 
thoughts  without  the  conventional  usages  of  a  better  caste 
in  life,  she  was  slightly  tinctured  with  an  exhibition  of 
what  might  be  termed  an  exaggerated  manner,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  was  perfectly  free  from  vulgarity  or  coarse¬ 
ness.  The  gentle  accents  of  Adelheid  fell  on  her  ear 
soothingly,  and  she  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  the  beauti¬ 
ful  speaker  without  a  reply. 

“  Who  and  what  art  thou  that  canst  think  a  headsman’s 
child  may  receive  an  insult  that  is  unmerited,  and  who 
offerest  the  service  of  thy  menials,  as  if  the  very  vassal 
would  not  refuse  his  master’s  bidding  in  our  behalf !  ” 

“  I  am  Adelheid  de  Willading,  the  daughter  of  the  baron 
of  that  name,  and  one  much  disposed  to  temper  this  cruel 
blow  to  the  feelings  of  poor  Christine.  Suffer  that  my 
people  seek  the  means  to  convey  thy  child  to  some  other 
place  !  ” 

Marguerite  folded  her  daughter  still  closer  to  her  bosom, 
passing  a  hand  across  her  brow,  as  if  to  recall  some  half- 
obscured  idea. 

“  I  have  heard  of  thee,  lady.  ’Tis  said  that  thou  art 
kind  to  the  wronged,  and  of  excellent  dispositions  towards 
the  unhappy  —  that  thy  father’s  castle  is  an  honored  and 
hospitable  abode,  which  those  who  enter  rarely  love  to  quit. 
But  hast  thou  well  weighed  the  consequences  of  this 
liberality  towards  a  race,  that  is  and  has  been  proscribed 
of  men,  from  generation  to  generation  —  from  him  who  first 
lent  himself  to  his  bloody  office,  with  a  cruel  heart  and  a 
greedy  desire  for  gold,  to  him  whose  courage  is  scarcely 
equal  to  the  disgusting  duty  ?  Hast  thou  bethought  thee 
of  this,  or  hast  thou  yielded,  heedlessly,  to  a  sudden  and 
youthful  impulse  ?  ” 

“  Of  all  this  have  I  thought,”  said  Adelheid,  eagerly ; 


272 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“whatever  may  be  the  injustice  of  others,  thou  hast  none  to 
fear  from  me.” 

Marguerite  yielded  the  form  of  her  child  to  the  support 
of  her  father’s  arm,  and  drew  nearer,  with  a  gaze  of  earnest 
and  pleased  interest,  to  the  blushing  but  still  composed 
Adelheid.  She  took  the  hand  of  the  latter,  and,  with  a 
look  of  recognition  and  intelligence,  said  slowly,  as  if  com¬ 
muning  with  herself,  rather  than  speaking  to  another,  — 

“  This  is  getting  to  be  intelligible  !  ”  she  murmured  ; 
“  there  is  still  gratitude  and  creditable  feeling  in  the  world. 
I  can  understand  why  we  are  not  revolting  to  this  fair  be¬ 
ing  ;  she  has  a  sense  of  justice  that  is  stronger  than  her 
prejudices.  We  have  done  her  service,  and  she  is  not 
ashamed  of  the  source  whence  it  has  come  !  ” 

The  heart  of  Adelheid  throbbed  quick  and  violently  ; 
and,  for  a  moment,  she  doubted  her  ability  to  command  her 
feelings.  But  the  pleasing  conviction  that  Sigismund  had 
been  honorable  and  delicate,  even  to  his  most  sacred  and 
confidential  communications  with  his  own  mother,  came  to 
relieve  her,  and  to  make  her  momentarily  happy  ;  since 
nothing  is  so  painful  to  the  pure  mind,  as  to  think  those 
they  love  have  acted  unworthily  ;  or  nothing  10  grateful,  as 
the  assurance  that  they  merit  the  esteem  we  have  been  in¬ 
duced  liberally  and  confidingly  to  bestow. 

“  You  do  me  no  more  than  justice,”  returned  the  pleased 
listener  of  this  flattering  and  seemingly  involuntary  opinion, 
“  we  are  indeed  —  indeed  we  are  truly  grateful ;  but  had  we 
not  reason  for  the  sacred  obligations  of  gratitude,  I  think 
we  could  still  be  just.  Will  you  not  now  consent  that  my 
people  should  aid  you  ?  ” 

“  This  is  not  necessary,  lady.  Send  away  thy  followers, 
for  their  presence  will  draw  unpleasant  observations  on  our 
movements.  The  town  is  now  occupied  with  feasts,  and,  as 
we  have  not  blindly  overlooked  the  necessity  of  a  retreat 
for  the  hunted  and  persecuted,  we  will  take  the  opportunity 
to  withdraw  unseen.  As  for  thyself  ”  — 

“  I  would  be  near  this  innocent  at  a  moment  so  trying,” 
added  Adelheid  earnestly,  and  with  that  visible  sympathy 
which  rarely  fails  to  meet  an  echo. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


273 


“  Heaven  bless  tliee  !  Heaven  bless  thee,  sweet  girl ! 
And  Heaven  will  bless  thee,  for  few  wrongs  go  unrequited 
in  this  life,  and  lit\le  good  without  its  reward.  Send  thy 
followers  away,  or  if  thy  habits  require  their  watchfulness, 
let  them  be  near  unseen,  whilst  thou  watchest  our  move¬ 
ments  ;  and  when  the  eyes  of  all  are  turned  on  their  own 
pleasures,  thou  canst  follow.  Heaven  bless  thee  —  aye, 
and  Heaven  will !  ” 

Marguerite  then  led  her  daughter  towards  one  of  the 
least  frequented  streets.  She  was  accompanied  by  the 
silent  Balthazar,  and  closely  watched  by  one  of  the  menials 
of  Adelheid.  When  fairly  housed,  the  domestic  returned  to 
show  the  spot  to  his  mistress,  who  had  appeared  to  occupy 
herself  with  the  hundred  silly  devices  that  were  invented  to 
amuse  the  multitude.  Dismissing  her  attendants,  with  an 
order  to  remain  at  hand,  however,  the  heiress  of  Willading 
soon  found  means  to  enter  the  humble  abode  in  which  the 
proscribed  family  had  taken  refuge,  and,  as  she  was  ex¬ 
pected,  she  was  soon  introduced  into  the  chamber  where 
Christine  and  her  mother  had  taken  refuge. 

The  sympathy  of  the  young  and  tender  Adelheid  was 
precious  to  one  of  the  character  of  Christine.  They  wept 
together,  for  the  weakness  of  her  sex  prevailed  over  the 
pride  of  the  former,  when  she  found  herself  unrestrained  by 
the  observation  of  the  world,  and  she  gave  way  to  the  tor¬ 
rent  of  feeling  that  broke  through  its  bounds,  in  spite  of  her 
endeavors  to  control  it.  Marguerite  was  the  only  spectator 
of  this  silent  but  intelligible  communion  between  these  two 
young  and  pure  spirits,  and  her  soul  was  shaken  by  the  un¬ 
looked-for  commiseration  of  one  so  honored,  and  who  was 
usually  esteemed  so  happy. 

“  Thou  hast  the  consciousness  of  our  wrongs,”  she  said, 
when  the  first  burst  of  emotion  had  a  little  subsided. 
“  Thou  canst  then  believe  that  a  headsman’s  child  is  like 
the  offspring  of  another,  and  is  not  to  be  hunted  of  men 
like  the  young  of  a  wolf. 

“  Mother,  this  is  the  Baron  de  Willading’s  heiress,”  said 
Christine  ;  u  would  she  come  here,  did  she  not  pity  us  ?  ” 

“  Yes,  she  can  pity  us  ;  and  yet  I  find  it  hard  even  to  be 
18 


274 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


pitied  !  Sigismund  has  told  us  of  her  goodness,  and  the 

may,  in  truth,  feel  for  the  wretched  !  ” 

The  allusion  to  her  son  caused  the  temples  of  Adelheid 
to  burn  like  fire,  while  there  was  a  chill,  resemblmg  that  o 
death,  at  her  heart.  The  first  arose  from  the  qu  ck  and 
uncontrollable  alarm  of  female  sensitiveness  , 
owing  to  the  shock  inseparable  from  being  presented  w 
this  vivid,  palpable  picture  of  Sigismund’.  close 
the  family  of  an  executioner.  She  could  have  bette.  borne 
it,  had  Marguerite  spoken  of  her  son  less  familiarly, 
more  of  that  feigned  ignorance  of  each  other,  whic  i, 
stopping  to  scan  its  fitness,  she  had  been  led  to  think  ex¬ 
isted  between  the  young  man  and  Ins  family. 

“  Mother  !  ”  exclaimed  Christine  reproachfully,  and  n 
surprise,  as  if  a  great  indiscretion  had  been  thoughtless  y 

committed.  , 

«  It  matters  not,  child  ;  it  matters  not.  I  saw  by  the 

kindling  eye  of  Sigismund  to-day,  that  our  secret  wi  no 
much  longer  be  kept-  The  noble  boy  must  show  more 
energy  than  those  who  have  gone  befoie  him,  ie  m 
quit  forever  a  country  in  which  he  was  condemned,  even 

before  he  was  bom.”  .  .  .  ,T  .  „ 

“  I  shall  not  deny  that  your  connection  with  Monsie 

Sigismund  is  known  to  me,”  said  Adelheid,  summoning  a 
her  resolution  to  make  an  avowal  which  put  her  at  once 
into  the  confidence  of  Balthazars  family.  °u  are 

q, minted  with  a  heavy  debt  of  gratitude  we  owe  your  son, 
and  it  will  explain  the  nature  of  the  interest  I  now  feel  in 

your  wrongs.”  ,  . 

The  keen  eye  of  Marguerite  studied  the  crimsoned  fea¬ 
tures  of  Adelheid  till  forgetfulness  got  the  better  of  discre¬ 
tion.  The  search  was  anxious,  rather  than  triumphant,  ie 
feeling  most  dreaded  by  its  subject ;  and,  when  her  eyes 
were  withdrawn,  the  mother  of  the  youth  became  thought¬ 
ful  and  pensive.  This  expressive  communion  produced  a 
deep  and  embarrassing  silence,  which  each  would  gladly 
have  broken,  had  they  not  both  been  _  irresistibly  tongue- 
tied  by  the  rapidity  and  intensity  of  their  thoughts.  m 

“  We  know  that  Sigismund  hath  been  of  service  to  thee, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


275 


observed  Marguerite,  who  always  addressed  her  gay  com¬ 
panion  with  the  familiarity  that  belonged  to  her  greater 
age,  rather  than  with  the  respect  which  Adelheid  had  been 
accustomed  to  receive  from  those  who  were  of  a  rank  in¬ 
ferior  to  her  own.  “  The  brave  boy  hath  spoken  of  it, 
though  he  hath  spoken  of  it  modestly.” 

“  He  had  every  right  to  do  himself  justice  in  his  com¬ 
munications  with  those  of  his  own  family.  Without  his 
aid,  my  father  would  have  been  childless  ;  and  without  his 
brave  support,  the  child  fatherless.  Twice  has  he  stood 
between  us  and  death.” 

“  I  have  heard  of  this,”  returned  Marguerite,  again 
fastening  her  penetrating  eye  on  the  tell-tale  features  of 
Adelheid,  which  never  failed  to  brighten  and  glow,  when¬ 
ever  there  was  allusion  to  the  courage  and  self-devotion  of 
him  she  secretly  loved.  “  As  to  what  thou  sayest  of  the 
intimacy  of  our  poor  boy  with  those  of  his  blood,  cruel  cir¬ 
cumstances  stand  between  us  and  our  wishes.  If  Sigismund 
has  told  thee  of  whom  he  comes,  he  has  also  most  probably 
told  thee  of  the  manner  in  which  he  passes,  in  the  world, 
for  that  which  he  is  not.” 

“  I  believe  he  has  not  withheld  anything  that  he  knew, 
and  which  it  was  proper  to  communicate  to  me,”  answered 
Adelheid,  dropping  her  eyes  before  the  attentive,  expectant 
look  of  Marguerite.  “  He  has  spoken  freely,  and  ”  — 

u  Thou  wouldst  have  said  ”  — 

“  Honorably,  and  as  became  a  soldier,”  continued  Adel¬ 
heid,  firmly. 

“  He  has  done  well !  This  lightens  my  heart  of  one 
burden  at  least.  No ;  God  has  destined  us  to  this  fate, 
and  it  would  have  grieved  me  that  a  son  of  mine  should 
have  failed  of  principle  in  an  affair,  of  all  others,  in  which 
it  is  most  wanted.  You  look  amazed,  lady !  ” 

“  These  sentiments,  in  one  so  situated,  surprise  as  much 
as  they  delight  me  !  If  anything  could  excuse  some  loose¬ 
ness  in  the  manner  of  regarding  the  usual  ties  of  life,  it 
would  surely  be  to  find  one’s  self  so  placed,  by  no  miscon¬ 
duct  of  our  own,  as  to  be  a  butt  to  the  world’s  dislike  and 
injustice ;  and  yet  here,  where  there  was  reason  to  expect 


276 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


some  resentment  against  fortune,  I  meet  with  sentiments 
that  would  honor  a  throne  !  ” 

“  Thou  thinkest  as  one  more  accustomed  to  consider  thy 
fellow-creatures  through  the  means  of  what  men  fancy, 
than  through  things  as  they  are.  This  is  the  picture  of 
youth,  and  inexperience,  and  innocence  ;  but  it  is  not  the 
picture  of  life.  ’Tis  misfortune,  and  not  prosperity,  that 
chasteneth,  by  proving  our  insufficiency  for  true  happiness, 
and  by  leading  the  soul  to  depend  on  a  power  greater  than 
any  that  is  to  be  found  on  earth.  We  fall  before  the 
temptation  of  happiness,  when  we  rise  in  adversity.  If 
thou  thinkest,  innocent  one,  that  noble  and  just  sentiments 
belong  to  the  fortunate,  thou  trustest  to  a  false  guide. 
There  are  evils  which  flesh  cannot  endure,  it  is  true  ;  but, 
removed  from  these  overwhelming  wants,  we  are  strongest 
in  the  right,  when  least  tempted  by  vanity  and  ambition. 
More  starving  beggars  abstain  from  stealing  the  crust  they 
crave,  than  pampered  gluttons  deny  themselves  the  luxury 
that  kills  them.  They  that  live  under  the  rod,  see  and 
dread  the  hand  that  holds  it ;  they  who  riot  in  earth’s 
glories,  come  at  last  to  think  they  deserve  the  short-lived 
distinctions  they  enjoy.  When  thou  goest  down  into  the 
depths  of  misery,  thou  hast  naught  to  fear  except  the  anger 
of  God !  It  is  when  raised  above  others,  that  thou  shouldst 
tremble  most  for  thine  own  safety.” 

“  This  is  not  the  manner  in  which  the  world  is  used  to 
reason.” 

“  Because  the  world  is  governed  by  those  whose  interest 
it  is  to  pervert  truth  to  their  own  objects,  and  not  by  those 
whose  duties  run  hand-in-hand  with  the  right.  But  we 
will  say  no  more  of  this,  lady  ;  here  is  one  that  feels  too 
acutely  just  now  to  admit  truth  to  be  too  freely  spoken.” 

“  Dost  feel  thyself  better,  and  more  able  to  listen  to  thy 
friends,  dear  Christine  ?  ”  asked  Adelheid,  taking  the  hand 
of  the  repudiated  and  deserted  girl  with  the  tenderness  of 
an  affectionate  sister. 

Until  now  the  sufferer  had  only  spoken  the  few  words 
related,  in  mild  reproof  of  her  mother’s  indiscretion.  That 
little  had  been  uttered  with  parched  lips  and  a  choked 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


277 


voice,  while  the  hue  of  her  features  was  deadly  pale,  and 
her  whole  countenance  betrayed  intense  mental  anguish. 
But  this  display  of  interest  in  one  of  her  own  years  and 
sex,  of  whose  excellences  she  had  been  accustomed  to  near 
such  fervid  descriptions  from  the  warm-hearted  Sigismund, 
and  of  whose  sincerity  she  was  assured  by  the  subtle  and 
quick  instinct  that  unites  the  innocent  and  young,  caused  a 
.quick  and  extreme  change  in  her  sensibilities.  The  grief 
which  had  been  struggling  and  condensed,  now  flowed  more 
freely  from  her  eyes,  and  she  threw  herself,  sobbing  and 
weeping,  in  a  paroxysm  of  gentle,  but  overwhelming  feel¬ 
ing,  on  the  bosom  of  this  new-found  friend.  The  experi¬ 
enced  Marguerite  smiled  at  this  manifestation  of  kindness 
on  the  part  of  Adelheid,  though  even  this  expression  of 
satisfaction  was  austere  and  regulated  in  one  who  had  so 
long  stood  at  bay  with  the  world.  And,  after  a  short 
pause,  she  left  the  room,  under  the  belief  that  such  a  com¬ 
munion  with  a  spirit,  pure  and  inexperienced  as  her  own, 
a.  communion  so  unusual  to  her  daughter,  would  be  more 
likely  to  produce  a  happy  effect,  if  left  to  themselves,  than 
when  restrained  by  her  presence. 

The  two  girls  wept  in  common,  for  a  long  time  after 
Marguerite  had  disappeared.  This  intercourse,  chastened 
as  it  was  by  sorrow,  and  rendered  endearing  on  the  one 
side  by  a  confiding  ingenuousness,  and  on  the  other  by 
generous  pity,  caused  both  to  live  in  that  short  period,  as  it 
were,  months  together  in  a  near  and  dear  intimacy.  Con¬ 
fidence  is  not  always  the  growth  of  time.  There  are  minds 
that  meet  each  other  with  a  species  of  affinity  that  resem¬ 
bles  the  cohesive  property  of  matter,  and  with  a  prompti¬ 
tude  and  faith  that  only  belongs  to  the  purer  essence  of 
which  they  are  composed.  But  when  this  attraction  of  the 
ethereal  part  of  the  being  is  aided  by  the  feelings  that 
have  been  warmed  by  an  interest  so  tender  as  that  which 
the  hearts  of  both  the  maidens  felt  in  a  common  object,  its 
power  is  not  only  stronger,  but  quicker,  in  making  itself 
felt.  So  much  was  already  known  by  each  of  the  other’s 
character,  fortunes,  and  hopes  (always  with  the  exception 
of  Adelheid’s  most  sacred  secret,  which  Sigismund  cherished 


278 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


as  a  deposit  by  far  too  sacred  to  be  shared  even  with  hia 
sister),  that  the  meeting  under  no  circumstances  could  have 
been  that  of  strangers,  and  their  mutual  knowledge  came  as 
an  assistant  to  break  down  the  barriers  of  those  forms  which 
were  so  irksome  to  their  longings  for  a  freer  interchange 
of  feeling  and  thought.  Adelheid  possessed  too  much  intel¬ 
lectual  tact  to  have  recourse  to  the  every-day  language  of 
consolation.  When  she  did  speak,  which,  as  became  her 
superior  rank  and  less  embarrassed  situation,  she  was  the 
first  to  do,  it  was  in  general  but  friendly  allusions. 

“  Thou  wilt  go  with  us  to  Italy,  in  the  morning,”  she 
said,  drying  her  eyes  ;  “  my  father  quits  Blonay,  in  com¬ 
pany  with  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  with  to-morrow’s  sun,  and 
thou  wilt  be  of  our  company  ?  ” 

“  Where  thou  wilt  —  anywhere  with  thee  —  anywhere  to 
hide  my  shame  !  ” 

The  blood  mounted  to  the  temples  of  Adelheid,  her  air 
even  appeared  imposing  to  the  eyes  of  the  artless  and  un¬ 
practiced  Christine,  as  she  answered,  — 

“  Shame  is  a  word  that  applies  to  the  mean  and  mer¬ 
cenary,  to  the  vile  and  unfaithful,”  she  said,  with  womanly 
and  virtuous  indignation  ;  “  but  not  to  thee,  love.” 

“  Oh  !  do  not  —  do  not  condemn  him,”  whispered  Chris¬ 
tine,  covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  “  He  has  found 
himself  unequal  to  bearing  the  burden  of  our  degradation, 
and  he  should  be  spoken  of  in  pity  rather  than  with 
hatred.” 

Adelheid  was  silent ;  but  she  regarded  the  poor,  trem¬ 
bling  girl,  whose  head  now  nestled  in  her  bosom,  with 
melancholy  concern. 

“  Didst  thou  know  him  well  ?  ”  she  asked  in  a  low  tone, 
following  rather  the  chain  of  her  own  thoughts,  than  re¬ 
flecting  on  the  nature  of  the  question  she  put.  “  I  had 
hoped  that  this  refusal  would  bring  no  other  pain  than  the 
unavoidable  mortification  which  I  fear  belongs  to  the  weak¬ 
ness  of  our  sex  and  our  habits.” 

“  Thou  knowest  not  how  dear  preference  is  to  the  de¬ 
spised  !  how  cherished  the  thought  of  being  loved  becomes 
to  those,  who,  out  of  their  own  narrow  limits  of  natural 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


279 


friends,  have  been  accustomed  to  meet  only  with  contempt 
and  aversion  !  Thou  hast  always  been  known,  and  courted, 
and  happy  !  Thou  canst  not  know  how  dear  it  is  to  the 
despised  to  seem  even  to  be  preferred  !  ” 

“  Nay,  say  not  this,  I  pray  thee  !  ”  answered  Adelheid, 
hurriedly,  and  with  a  throb  of  anguish  at  her  heart ;  “  there 
is  little  in  this  life  that  speaks  fairly  for  itself.  We  are  not 
always  what  we  seem  ;  and  if  we  were,  and  far  more  mis¬ 
erable  than  anything  but  vice  can  make  us,  there  is  another 
state  of  being,  in  which  justice — pure,  unalloyed  justice  — 
will  be  done.” 

“  I  will  go  with  thee  to  Italy,”  answered  Christine,  look¬ 
ing  calm  and  resolved,  while  a  glow  of  holy  hope  bloomed 
on  each  cheek ;  “  when  all  is  over,  we  will  go  together  to  a 
happier  world  !  ” 

Adelheid  folded  the  stricken  and  sensitive  plant  to  her 
bosom.  Again  they  wept  together,  but  it  was  with  a  milder 
and  sweeter  sorrow  than  before. 


280 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

I’ll  show  thee  the  best  springs ;  I’ll  pluck  thee  berries. 

Tempest. 

The  day  dawned  clear  and  cloudless  on  the  Leman,  the 
morning  that  succeeded  the  Abbaye  des  Vignerons.  Hun¬ 
dreds  among  the  frugal  and  time-saving  Swiss  had  left  the 
town  before  the  appearance  of  the  light,  and  many  strangers 
were  crowding  into  the  barks,  as  the  sun  came  bright  and 
cheerfully  over  the  rounded  and  smiling  summits  of  the 
neighboring  cotes.  At  this  early  hour  all  in  and  around 
the  rock-seated  castle  of  Blonay  were  astir,  and  in  motion. 
Menials  were  running,  with  hurried  air,  from  room  to  room, 
from  court  to  terrace,  and  from  lawn  to  tower.  The  peas¬ 
ants  in  the  adjoining  fields  rested  on  their  utensils  ol  hus¬ 
bandry,  in  gaping,  admiring  attention  to  the  preparations  of 
their  superiors.  For  though  we  are  not  writing  of  a  strictly 
feudal  age,  the  events  it  is  our  business  to  record  took  place 
long  before  the  occurrence  of  those  great  political  events, 
which  have  since  so  materially  changed  the  social  state  of 
Europe.  Switzerland  was  then  a  sealed  country  to  most 
of  those  who  dwelt  even  in  the  adjoining  nations,  and  the 
present  advanced  condition  of  roads  and  inns  was  quite 
unknown,  not  only  to  these  mountaineers,  but  throughout 
the  rest  of  what  was  then  much  more  properly  called  the 
exclusively  civilized  portion  of  the  globe,  than  it  is  to-day. 
Even  horses  were  not  often  used  in  the  passage  of  the  Alps, 
but  recourse  was  had  to  the  surer-footed  mule  by  the 
traveller,  and,  not  unfrequently,  by  the  more  practiced  car¬ 
rier  and  smuggler  of  those  rude  paths.  Roads  existed,  it  is 
true,  as  in  other  parts  of  Europe,  in  the  countries  of  the 
plain,  if  any  portion  of  the  great  undulating  surface  of  that 
region  deserve  the  name  ;  but  once  within  the,  mountains. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


281 


with  the  exception  of  very  inartificial  wheel-tracks  in  the 
straitened  and  glen-like  valleys,  the  hoof  alone  was  to  be 
trusted  or  indeed  used. 

The  long  train  of  travellers,  then,  that  left  the  gates  of 
Blonay  just  as  the  fog  began  to  stir  on  the  wide  alluvial 
meadows  of  the  Rhone,  were  all  in  the  saddle.  A  courier, 
accon^anied  by  a  sumpter-mule,  had  departed  over-night  to 
prepare  the  way  for  those  who  were  to  follow,  and  active 
young  mountaineers  had  succeeded,  from  time  to  time, 
charged  with  different  orders,  issued  in  behalf  of  their  com¬ 
forts. 

As  the  cavalcade  passed  beneath  the  arch  of  the  great 
gate,  the  lively,  spirit-stirring  horn  sounded  a  farewell  air, 
to  which  custom  had  attached  the  signification  of  good 
wishes.  It  took  the  way  towards  the  level  of  the  Leman 
by  means  of  a  winding  and  picturesque  bridle-path  that  led, 
among  Alpine  meadows,  groves,  rocks,  and  hamlets,  fairly  to 
the  water-side.  Roger  de  Blonay  and  his  two  principal 
guests  rode  in  front,  the  former  seated  on  a  war-horse  that 
he  had  ridden  years  before  as  a  soldier,  and  the  two  latter 
well  mounted  on  beasts  prepared  for,  and  accustomed  to, 
the  mountains.  Adelheid  and  Christine  came  next,  riding 
by  themselves,  in  the  modest  reserve  of  their  maiden  con¬ 
dition.  Their  discourse  was  low,  confidential,  and  renewed 
at  intervals.  A  few  menials  followed,  and  then  came  Sigis- 
mund  at  the  side  of  the  Signor  Grimaldi’s  friend,  and  one 
of  the  family  of  Blonay,  the  latter  of  whom  was  destined 
to  return  with  the  baron,  after  doing  honor  to  their  guests 
by  seeing  them  as  far  as  Villeneuve.  The  rear  was  brought 
up  by  muleteers,  domestics,  and  those  who  led  the  beasts 
that  bore  the  baggage.  All  of  the  former  who  intended  to 
cross  the  Alps  carried  the  fire-arms  of  the  period  at  their 
saddle-bows,  and  each  had  his  rapier,  his  couteau  de  chasse , 
or  his  weapon  of  more  military  fashion,  so  disposed  about 
his  person  as  to  denote  it  was  considered  an  arm  for  whose 
use  some  occasion  might  possibly  occur. 

As  the  departure  from  Blonay  was  unaccompanied  by 
any  of  those  leave-takings  which  usually  impress  a  touch 
of  melancholy  on  the  traveller,  most  of  the  cavalcade,  as 


282 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


they  issued  into  the  pure  and  exhilarating  air  of  the  morn¬ 
ing,  were  sufficiently  disposed  to  enjoy  the  loveliness  of  the 
landscape,  and  to  indulge  in  the  cheerfulness  and  delight  that 
a  scene  so  glorious  is  apt  to  awaken,  in  all  who  are  alive  to 
the  beauties  of  nature. 

Adelheid  gladly  pointed  out  to  her  companion  the  vari¬ 
ous  objects  of  the  view,  as  a  means  of  recalling  the 
thoughts  of  Christine  from  her  own  particular  griefs,  which 
were  heightened  by  regret  for  the  loss  of  her  mother,  from 
whom  she  was  now  seriously  separated  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  since  their  communications,  though  secret,  had 
been  constant  during  the  years  she  had  dwelt  under  another 
roof.  The  latter  gratefully  lent  herself  to  the  kind  inten¬ 
tions  of  her  new  friend,  and  endeavored  to  be  pleased  with 
all  she  beheld,  though  it  was  such  pleasure  as  the  sad  and 
mourning  admit  with  a  jealous  reservation  of  their  own 
secret  causes  of  woe. 

“  Yonder  tower,  towards  which  we  advance,  is  Chate- 
lard,”  said  the  heiress  of  Willading  to  the  daughter  of  Bal¬ 
thazar,  in  the  pursuit  of  her  kind  intention ;  “  a  hold 
nearly  as  ancient  and  honorable  as  this  we  have  just  quitted, 
though  not  so  constantly  the  dwelling  of  the  same  family  ; 
for  those  of  Blonay  have  been  a  thousand  years  dwellers  on 
the  same  rock,  always  favorably  known  for  their  faith  and 
courage.” 

“  Surely,  if  there  is  anything  in  life  that  can  compensate 
for  its  every-day  evils,”  observed  Christine,  in  a  manner  of 
mild  regret  and  perhaps  with  the  perversity  of  grief,  “  it 
must  be  to  have  come  from  those  who  have  always  been 
known  and  honored  among  the  great  and  happy !  Even 
virtue  and  goodness  and  great  deeds  scarce  give  a  respect 
like  that  we  feel  for  the  Sire  de  Blonay,  whose  family  has 
been  seated,  as  thou  hast  just  said,  a  thousand  years  on  that 
rock  above  us  !  ” 

Adelheid  was  mute.  She  appreciated  the  feeling  which 
had  so  naturally  led  her  companion  to  a  reflection  like  this, 
and  she  felt  the  difficulty  of  applying  balm  to  a  wound 
as  deep  as  that  which  had  been  inflicted  on  her  companion. 

“  We  are  not  always  to  suppose  those  the  most  happy 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


283 


that  the  world  most  honors,”  she  at  length  answered  ;  u  the 
respect  to  which  we  are  accustomed  comes  in  time  to  be 
necessary,  without  being  a  source  of  pleasure  ;  and  the  haz¬ 
ard  of  incurring  its  loss  is  more  than  equal  to  the  satisfac¬ 
tion  of  its  possession.” 

“  Thou  wilt  at  least  admit  that  to  be  despised  and 
shunned  is  a  curse  to  which  nothing  can  reconcile  us  ?  ” 

“  We  will  speak  now  of  other  things,  dear.  It  may  be 
long  ere  either  of  us  again  sees  this  grand  display  of  rock 
and  water,  of  brown  mountain  and  shining  glacier  ;  we  will 
not  prove  ourselves  ungrateful  for  the  happiness  we  have, 
by  repining  for  that  which  is  impossible.” 

Christine  quietly  yielded  to  the  kind  intention  of  her 
new  friend,  and  they  rode  on  in  silence,  picking  their  way 
along  the  winding  path,  until  the  whole  party,  after  a  long 
but  pleasant  descent,  reached  the  road,  which  is  nearly 
washed  by  the  waters  of  the  lake.  There  has  already  been 
allusion,  in  the  earlier  pages  of  our  work,  to  the  extraor¬ 
dinary  beauties  of  the  route  near  this  extremity  of  the 
Leman.  After  climbing  to  the  height  of  the  mild  and 
healthful  Montreux,  the  cavalcade  again  descended,  under  a 
canopy  of  nut-trees,  to  the  gate  of  Chillon,  and,  sweeping 
around  the  margin  of  the  sheet,  it  reached  Villeneuve  by 
the  hour  that  had  been  named  for  an  early  morning  re¬ 
past.  Here  all  dismounted,  and  refreshed  themselves 
awhile,  when  Roger  de  Blonay  and  his  attendants,  after 
many  exchanges  of  warm  and  sincere  good  wishes,  took 
their  final  leave. 

The  sun  was  scarcely  yet  visible  in  the  deep  glens,  when 
those  who  were  destined  for  St.  Bernard  were  again  in  the 
saddle.  The  road  now  necessarily  left  the  lake,  traversing 
those  broad  alluvial  bottoms  which  have  been  deposited 
during  thirty  centuries  by  the  washings  of  the  Rhone, 
aided,  if  faith  is  to  be  given  to  geological  symptoms  and  to 
ancient  traditions,  by  certain  violent  convulsions  of  nature. 
For  several  hours  our  travellers  rode  amid  such  a  deep  fer¬ 
tility,  and  such  a  luxuriance  of  vegetation,  that  their  path 
bore  more  analogy  to  an  excursion  on  the  wide  plains 
of  Lombardy,  than  to  one  amid  the  usual  Swiss  scenery  ; 


284 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


although,  unlike  the  boundless  expanse  of  the  Italian  gar¬ 
den,  the  view  was  limited  on  each  side  by  perpendicular 
barriers  of  rock,  that  were  piled  for  thousands  of  feet  into 
the  heavens,  and  which  were  merely  separated  from  each 
other  by  a  league  or  two,  a  distance  that  dwindled  to  miles 
in  its  effect  on  the  eye,  a  consequence  of  the  grandeur  of 
the  scale  on  which  Nature  has  reared  these  vast  piles. 

It  was  high-noon  when  Melchior  de  Willading  and  his 
venerable  friend  led  the  way  across  the  foaming  Rhone,  at 
the  celebrated  bridge  of  St.  Maurice.  Here  the  country 
of  the  Valais,  then,  like  Geneva,  an  ally,  and  not  a  confed¬ 
erate  of  the  Swiss  cantons,  was  entered,  and  all  objects, 
both  animate  and  inanimate,  began  to  assume  that  mixture 
of  the  grand,  the  sterile,  the  luxuriant,  and  the  revolting, 
for  which  this  region  is  so  general^  known.  Adelheid 
gave  an  involuntary  shudder,  her  imagination  having  been 
prepared  by  rumor  for  even  more  than  the  truth  would 
have  given  reason  to  expect,  when  the  gate  of  St.  Maurice 
swung  back  upon  its  hinges,  literally  inclosing  the  party  in 
this  wild,  desolate,  and  yet  romantic  region.  As  they  pro¬ 
ceeded  along  the  Rhone,  however,  she  and  those  of  her 
companions  to  whom  the  scene  was  new,  were  constantly 
wondering  at  some  unlooked-for  discrepancy,  that  drove 

them  from  admiration  to  disgust  —  from  the  exclamations 

© 

of  delight  to  the  chill  of  disappointment.  The  mountains 
on  every  side  were  dreary,  and  without  the  rich  relief  of 
the  pastured  eminences,  but  most  of  the  valley  was  rich 
and  generous.  In  one  spot  a  sac  d’eau,  one  of  those  reser¬ 
voirs  of  water  which  form  among  the  glaciers  on  the  sum¬ 
mits  of  the  rocks,  had  broken,  and,  descending  like  a 
water-spout,  it  had  swept  before  it  every  vestige  of  culti¬ 
vation,  covering  wide  breadths  of  the  meadows  with  a 
debris  that  resembled  chaos.  A  frightful  barrenness,  and 
the  most  smiling  fertility,  were  in  absolute  contact ;  patches 
of  green,  that  had  been  accidentally  favored  by  some  lucky 
formation  of  the  ground,  sometimes  appearing  like  oases 
of  the  desert,  in  the  very  centre  of  a  sterility  that  would 
put  the  labor  and  the  art  of  man  at  defiance  for  a  century. 
In  the  midst  of  this  terrific  picture  of  want  sat  a  cretin, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


285 


with  his  serai-human  attributes,  the  lolling  tongue,  the 
blunted  faculties,  and  the  degrading  appetites,  to  complete 
the  desolation.  Issuing  from  this  belt  of  annihilated  veg- 
etation,  the  scene  became  again  as  pleasant  as  the  fancy 
could  desire,  or  the  eye  crave.  Fountains  leaped  from 
rock  to  rock  in  the  sun’s  rays  ;  the  valley  was  green  and 
gentle  ;  the  mountains  began  to  show  Varied  and  pleasing 
forms  ;  and  happy,  smiling  faces  appeared,  whose  freshness 
and  regularity  were  perhaps  of  a  cast  superior  to  that  of 
most  of  the  Swiss.  In  short,  the  Valais  was  then,  as  now, 
a  country  of  opposite  extremes,  but  in  which,  perhaps, 
there  is  a  predominance  of  the  repulsive  and  inhospitable. 

It  was  fairly  nightfall,  notwithstanding  the  trifling  dis¬ 
tance  they  had  journeyed,  when  the  travellers  reached 
Martigny,  where  dispositions  had  previously  been  made  for 
their  reception  during  the  hours  of  sleep.  Here  prepara¬ 
tions  were  made  to  seek  their  rest  at  an  early  hour,  in 
order  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  fatiguing  toil  of  the  follow¬ 
ing  day. 

Martigny  is  situated  at  the  point  where  the  great  valley 
of  the  Rhone  changes  its  direction  from  a  north  and  south 
to  an  east  and  west  course,  and  it  is  the  spot  whence  three 
of  the  celebrated  mountain  paths  diverge,  to  make  as  many 
passages  of  the  upper  Alps.  Here  are  the  two  routes  of  the 
great  and  little  St.  Bernard,  both  of  which  lead  into  Italy, 
and  that  of  the  Col-de-Balme,  which  crosses  a  spur  of  the 
Alps  into  Savoy  towards  the  celebrated  valley  of  Chamouni. 
It  was  the  intention  of  the  Baron  de  Willading  and  his 
friend  to  journey  by  the  former  of  these  roads,  as  has  so 
often  been  mentioned  in  these  pages,  their  destination  being 
the  capital  of  Piedmont.  The  passage  of  the  great  St. 
Bernard,  though  so  long  known  by  its  ancient  and  hos¬ 
pitable  convent,  the  most  elevated  habitation  in  Europe, 
and  in  these  later  times  so  famous  for  the  passage  of  a  con¬ 
quering  army,  is  but  a  secondary  Alpine  pass,  considered  in 
reference  to  the  grandeur  of  its  scenery.  The  ascent,  so  in¬ 
artificial  even  to  this  hour,  is  long  and  comparatively  with¬ 
out  danger,  and  in  general  it  is  sufficiently  direct,  there 
being  no  very  precipitous  rise  like  those  of  the  Gemmi,  the 


286 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Grimsel,  and  various  other  passes  in  Switzerland  and  Italy, 
except  at  the  very  neck,  or  col,  of  the  mountain,  where  the 
rock  is  to  be  literally  climbed  on  the  rude  and  broad  steps 
that  so  frequently  occur  among  the  paths  of  the  Alps  and 
the  Apennines.  The  fatigue  of  this  passage  comes,  there¬ 
fore,  rather  from  its  length,  and  the  necessity  of  unremitted 
diligence,  than  from  any  excessive  labor  demanded  by  the 
ascent ;  and  the  reputation  acquired  by  the  great  captain 
of  our  age,  in  leading  an  army  across  its  summit,  has  been 
obtained  more  by  the  military  combinations  of  which  it 
formed  the  principal  feature,  the  boldness  of  the  conception, 
and  the  secrecy  and  promptitude  with  which  so  extensive 
an  operation  was  effected,  than  by  the  physical  difficulties 
that  were  overcome.  In  the  latter  particular,  the  passage 
of  St.  Bernard,  as  this  celebrated  coup-de-main  is  usually 
called,  has  frequently  been  outdone  in  our  own  wilds ;  for 
armies  have  often  traversed  regions  of  broad  streams, 
broken  mountains,  and  uninterrupted  forests,  for  weeks  at  a 
time,  in  which  the  mere  bodily  labor  of  any  given  number 
of  days  would  be  found  to  be  greater  than  that  endured  on 
this  occasion  by  the  followers  of  Napoleon.  The  estimate 
we  attach  to  every  exploit  is  so  dependent  on  the  mag¬ 
nitude  of  its  results,  that  men  rarely  come  to  a  perfectly 
impartial  judgment  on  its  merits ;  the  victory  or  defeat, 
however  simple  or  bloodless,  that  shall  shake  or  assure  the 
interests  of  civilized  society,  being  always  esteemed  by  the 
world  an  event  of  greater  importance  than  the  happiest 
combinations  of  thought  and  valor  that  affect  only  the  wel¬ 
fare  of  some  remote  and  unknown  people.  By  the  just 
consideration  of  this  truth,  we  come  to  understand  the  value 
of  a  nation’s  possessing  confidence  in  itself,  extensive  power, 
and  a  unity  commensurate  to  its  means  ;  since  small  and 
divided  states  waste  their  strength  in  acts  too  insignificant 
for  general  interest,  frittering  away  their  mental  riches,  no 
less  than  their  treasure  and  blood,  in  supporting  interests 
that  fail  to  enlist  the  sympathies  of  any  beyond  the  pale  of 
their  own  borders.  The  nation  which,  by  the  adverse  cir¬ 
cumstances  of  numerical  inferiority,  poverty  of  means,  fail¬ 
ure  of  enterprise,  or  want  of  opinion,  cannot  sustain  its 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


287 


own  citizens  in  the  acquisition  of  a  just  renown,  is  deficient 
in  one  of  the  first  and  most  indispensable  elements  of  great¬ 
ness  ;  glory,  like  riches,  feeding  itself,  and  being  most  apt 
to  be  found  where  its  fruits  have  already  accumulated. 
We  see,  in  this  fact,  among  other  conclusions,  the  impor¬ 
tance  of  an  acquisition  of  such  habits  of  manliness  of 
thought,  as  will  enable  us  to  decide  on  the  merits  and 
demerits  of  what  is  done  among  ourselves,  and  of  shaking 
off  that  dependence  on  others,  which  it  is  too  much  the 
custom  of  some  among  us  to  dignify  with  the  pretending 
title  of  deference  to  knowledge  and  taste,  but  which,  in 
truth,  possesses  some  such  share  of  true  modesty  and 
diffidence,  as  the  footman  is  apt  to  exhibit  when  exulting  in 
the  renown  of  his  master. 

This  little  digression  has  induced  us  momentarily  to  over¬ 
look  the  incidents  of  the  tale.  Few,  who  possess  the 
means,  venture  into  the  stormy  regions  of  the  upper  Alps, 
at  the  late  season  in  which  the  present  party  reached  the 
hamlet  of  Martigny,  without  seeking  the  care  of  one  or 
more  suitable  guides.  The  services  of  these  men  are  useful 
in  a  variety  of  ways,  but  in  none  more  than  in  offering  the 
advice  which  long  familiarity  with  the  signs  of  the  heavens, 
the  temperature  of  the  air,  and  the  direction  of  the  winds, 
enables  them  to  give.  The  Baron  de  Willading,  and  his 
friend,  immediately  dispatched  a  messenger  for  a  moun¬ 
taineer,  of  the  name  of  Pierre  Dumont,  who  enjoyed  a  fair 
name  for  fidelity,  and  who  was  believed  to  be  better  ac¬ 
quainted  with  all  the  difficulties  of  the  ascent  and  descent, 
than  any  other  who  journeyed  among  the  glens  of  that  part 
of  the  Alps.  At  the  present  day,  when  hundreds  ascend 
to  the  convent  from  curiosity  alone,  every  peasant  of  suf¬ 
ficient  strength  and  intelligence  becomes  a  guide,  and  the 
little  community  of  the  Lower  Valais  finds  the  transit  of 
the  idle  and  rich  such  a  fruitful  source  of  revenue,  that  it 
has  been  induced  to  regulate  the  whole  by  very  useful  and 
just  ordinances ;  but  at  the  period  of  the  tale,  this  Pierre 
was  the  only  individual,  who,  by  fortunate  concurrences, 
had  obtained  a  name  among  affluent  foreigners,  and  who 
wa'i  at  all  in  demand  with  that  class  of  travellers.  He  was 


288 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


not  long  in  presenting  himself  in  the  public  room  of  the 
inn  —  a  hale,  florid,  muscular  man  of  sixty,  with  every  ap¬ 
pearance  of  permanent  health  and  vigor,  but  with  a  slight 
and  nearly  imperceptible  difficulty  of  breathing. 

“  Thou  art  Pierre  Dumont  ?  ”  observed  the  baron,  study¬ 
ing  the  open  physiognomy  and  well-set  frame  of  the 
Yalaisan,  with  satisfaction.  “  Thou  hast  been  mentioned 
by  more  than  one  traveller  in  his  book.” 

The  stout  mountaineer  raised  himself  in  pride,  and  en¬ 
deavored  to  acknowledge  the  compliment  in  the  manner  of 
his  well-meant  but  rude  courtesy ;  for  refinement  did  not 
then  extend  its  finesse  and  its  deceit  among  the  glens  of 
Switzerland.  • 

“  They  have  done  me  honor,  Monsieur,”  he  said ;  “  it 
has  been  my  good  fortune  to  cross  the  Col  with  many 
brave  gentlemen  and  fair  ladies  —  and  in  two  instances  with 
princes.”  (Though  a  sturdy  republican,  Pierre  was  not  in¬ 
sensible  to  worldly  rank.)  “  The  pious  monks  know  me 
well ;  and  they  who  enter  the  convent  are  not  the  worse 
received  for  being  my  companions.  I  shall  be  glad  to  lead 
so  fair  a  party  from  our  cold  valley  into  the  sunny  glens 
of  Italy,  for,  if  the  truth  must  be  spoken,  Nature  has  placed 
us  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  mountain  for  our  comfort, 
though  we  have  our  advantage  over  those  who  live  even  in 
Turin  and  Milan,  in  matters  of  greater  importance.” 

“  What  can  be  the  superiority  of  a  Valaisan  over  the 
Lombard  or  the  Piedmontese  ?  ”  demanded  the  Signor 
Grimaldi  quickly,  like  a  man  who  was  curious  to  hear  the 
reply.  “  A  traveller  should  seek  all  kind  of  knowledge, 
and  I  take  this  to  be  a  newly-discovered  fact.” 

“  Liberty,  Signore  !  We  are  our  own  masters  ;  we  have 
been  so  since  the  day  when  our  fathers  sacked  the  castles 
of  the  barons,  and  compelled  their  tyrants  to  become  their 
equals.  I  think  of  this  each  time  I  reach  the  warm  plains 
of  Italy,  and  return  to  my  cottage  a  more  contented  man, 
for  the  reflection.” 

“  Spoken  like  a  Swiss,  though  it  is  uttered  by  an  ally 
of  the  cantons !  ”  cried  Melchior  de  Willading,  heartily. 
“  This  is  the  spirit,  Gaetano,  which  sustains  our  moun- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


289 


taineers,  and  renders  them  more  happy  amid  their  frosts 
and  rocks,  than  thy  Genoese  on  his  warm  and  glowing 
bay.” 

“  The  word  liberty,  Melchior,  is  more  used  than  under¬ 
stood,  and  as  much  abused  as  used,”  returned  the  Signor 
Grimaldi  gravely.  “  A  country  on  which  God  hath  laid  his 
finger  in  displeasure,  as  on  this,  needs  have  some  such  con¬ 
solation  as  the  phantom  with  which  the  honest  Pierre 
appears  to  be  so  well  satisfied.  But,  Signor  Guide,  have 
many  travellers  tried  the  passage  of  late?  and  what  dost 
thou  think  of  our  prospects  in  making  the  attempt?  We 
hear  gloomy  tales,  sometimes,  of  thy  Alpine  paths  in  that 
Italy  thou  hold’st  so  cheap.” 

“  Your  pardon,  noble  Signore,  if  the  frankness  of  a  moun¬ 
taineer  has  carried  me  too  far.  I  do  not  undervalue  your 
Piedmont,  because  I  love  our  Valais  more.  A  country  may 
be  excellent,  even  though  another  should  be  better.  As  for 
the  travellers,  none  of  note  have  gone  up  the  Col  of  late, 
though  there  have  been  the  usual  number  of  vagabonds  and 
adventurers.  The  savor  of  the  convent  kitchen  will  reach 
the  noses  of  these  knaves  here  in  the  valley,  though  we 
have  a  long  twelve  leagues  to  journey  in  getting  from  one 
to  the  other.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  waited  until  Adelheid  and  Christine, 
who  were  preparing  to  retire  for  the  night,  were  out  of 
hearing,  and  he  resumed  his  questions. 

“  Thou  hast  not  spoken  of  the  weather  ?  ” 

“We  are  in  one  of  the  most  uncertain  and  treacherous 
months  of  the  good  season,  Messieurs.  The  winter  is  gath¬ 
ering  among  the  upper  Alps,  and  in  a  month  in  which  the 
frosts  are  flying  about  like  uneasy  birds  that  do  not  know 
where  to  alight,  one  can  hardly  say  whether  he  hath  need 
of  his  cloak  or  not.” 

“  San  Francesco  !  Dost  think  I  am  dallying  with  thee, 
friend,  about  a  thickness  more  or  less  of  cloth !  I  am  hint¬ 
ing  at  avalanches  and  falling,  rocks  —  at  whirlwinds  and 
tempests !  ” 

Pierre  laughed  and  shook  his  head,  though  he  answered 

vaguely,  as  became  his  business. 

19 


290 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  These  are  Italian  opinions  of  our  hills,  Signore,”  he 
said  ;  “  they  savor  of  the  imagination.  Our  pass  is  not  as 
often  troubled  with  the  avalanche  as  some  that  are  known, 
even  in  the  melting  snows.  Had  you  looked  at  the  peaks 
from  the  lake,  you  would  have  seen  that,  the  hoary  glaciers 
excepted,  they  are  still  all  brown  and  naked.  The  snow 
must  fall  from  the  heavens  before  it  can  fall  in  the  ava¬ 
lanche,  and  we  are  yet,  I  think,  a  few  days  from  the  true 
winter.” 

“  Thy  calculations  are  made  with  nicety,  friend,”  re¬ 
turned  the  Genoese,  not  sorry,  however,  to  hear  the  guide 
speak  with  so  much  apparent  confidence  of  the  weather, 
“  and  we  are  obliged  to  thee  in  proportion.  What  of  the 
travellers  thou  hast  named  ?  Are  there  brigands  on  our 
path  ?  ” 

“  Such  rogues  have  been  known  to  infest  the  place,  but, 
in  general,  there  is  too  little  to  be  gained  for  the  risk. 
Your  rich  traveller  is  not  an  every-day  sight  among  our 
rocks ;  and  you  well  know,  Signore,  that  there  may  be  too 
few,  as  well  as  too  many,  on  a  path,  for  your  freebooter.” 

The  Italian  was  distrustful  by  habit  on  all  such  subjects, 
and  he  threw  a  quick,  suspicious  glance  at  the  guide.  But 
the  frank,  open  countenance  of  Pierre  removed  all  doubt  of 
his  honesty,  to  say  nothing  of  the  effect  of  a  well-established 
reputation. 

“  But  thou  hast  spoken  of  certain  vagabonds  who  have 
preceded  us  ?  ” 

“  In  that  particular,  matters  might  be  better,”  answered 
the  plain-minded  mountaineer,  dropping  his  head  in  an  atti¬ 
tude  of  meditation  so  naturally  expressed  as  to  give  addi¬ 
tional  weight  to  his  words.  “  Many  of  bad  appearance  have 
certainly  gone  up  to-day ;  such  as  a  Neapolitan  named 
Pippo,  who  is  anything  but  a  saint  —  a  certain  pilgrim,  who 
will  be  nearer  heaven  at  the  convent  than  he  will  be  at  the 
death  —  St.  Pierre  pray  for  me  if  I  do  the  man  injustice ! 
—  and  one  or  two  more  of  the  same  brood.  There  is 
another  that  hath  gone  up  also,  post  haste,  and  with  good 
reason  as  they  say,  for  he  hath  made  himself  the  butt  of  all 
the  jokers  in  Vevey  on  account  of  some  foolery  in  the  games 
of  the  abbaye  —  a  certain  Jacques  Colis.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


291 


The  name  was  repeated  by  several  near  the  speaker. 

u  The  same,  Messieurs.  It  would  seem  that  the  Sieur 
Colis  would  fain  take  a  maiden  to  wife  in  the  public  sports, 
and,  when  her  birth  came  to  be  known,  that  his  bride  was 
no  other  than  the  child  of  Balthazar,  the  common  headsman  ' 
of  Berne !  ” 

A  general  silence  betrayed  the  embarrassment  of  most  of 
the  listeners. 

“  And  that  tale  hath  already  reached  this  glen,”  said 
Sigismund,  in  a  tone  so  deep  and  firm  as  to  cause  Pierre  to 
start,  while  the  two  old  nobles  looked  in  another  direction, 
feigning  not  to  observe  what  was  passing. 

“  Humor  hath  a  nimbler  foot  than  a  mule,  young  officer,” 
answered  the  honest  guide.  “  The  tale,  as  you  call  it,  will 
have  travelled  across  the  mountains  sooner  than  they  who 
bore  it  —  though  I  never  knew  how  such  a  miracle  could 
pass  —  but  so  it  is ;  report  goes  faster  than  the  tongue  that 
spreads  it,  and  if  there  be  a  little  untruth  to  help  it  along, 
the  wind  itself  is  scarcely  swifter.  Honest  Jacques  Colis  has 
bethought  him  to  get  the  start  of  his  story,  but,  my  life 
on  it,  though  he  is  active  enough  in  getting  away  from 
his  mockers,  that  he  finds  it,  with  all  the  additions,  safely 
housed  in  the  inn  at  Turin  when  he  reaches  that  city  him¬ 
self” 

“  These,  then,  are  all  ?  ”  interrupted  the  Signor  Grimaldi, 
who  saw,  by  the  heaving  bosom  of  Sigismund,  that  it  was 
time  in  mercy  to  interpose. 

“  Not  so,  Signore  —  there  is  still  another,  and  one  I  like 
less  than  any.  A  countryman  of  your  own,  who,  impu¬ 
dently  enough,  calls  himself  II  Maledetto.” 

“  Maso !  ” 

“  The  very  same.” 

“Honest,  courageous  Maso,  and  his  noble  dog!” 

“  Signore,  you  describe  the  man  so  well  in  some  things, 
that  I  wonder  that  you  know  so  little  of  him  in  others. 
Maso  hath  not  his  equal  on  the  road  for  activity  and  cour¬ 
age,  and  the  beast  is  second  only  to  our  mastiffs  of  the  con¬ 
vent  for  the  same  qualities  ;  but  when  you  speak  of  the 
master’s  honesty,  you  speak  of  that  for  which  the  world 


292 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


gives  him  little  credit,  and  do  great  disparagement  to  the 
brute,  which  is  much  the  best  of  the  two,  in  this  respect.” 

“  This  may  be  true  enough,”  rejoined  the  Signore  Gri¬ 
maldi,  turning  anxiously  towards  his  companions ;  “  man  is 
a  strange  compound  of  good  and  evil ;  his  acts  when  left  to 
natural  inrpulses  are  so  different  from  what  they  become  on 
calculation  that  one  can  scarcely  answer  for  a  man  of  Maso’s 
temperament.  We  know  him  to  be  a  most  efficient  friend, 
and  such  a  man  would  be  apt  to  make  a  very  dangerous 
enemy  !  His  qualities  were  not  given  to  him  by  halves. 
And  yet  we  have  a  strong  circumstance  in  our  favor  ;  for 
he  who  hath  once  done  the  least  service  to  a  fellow-creature 
feels  a  sort  of  paternity  in  him  he  hath  saved,  and  would  be 
little  likely  to  rob  himself  of  the  pleasure  of  knowing,  that 
there  are  some  of  his  kind  who  owe  him  a  grateful  recollec¬ 
tion.” 

This  remark  was  answered  by  Melchior  de  Willading  in 
the  same  spirit,  and  the  guide,  perceiving  that  he  was  no 
longer  wanted,  withdrew. 

Soon  after,  the  travellers  retired  to  rest. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


293 


CHAPTER  XXL 

As  yet  the  trembling  year  is  unconfirmed. 

And  winter  oft,  at  eve,  resumes  the  breeze, 

Chills  the  pale  morn,  and  bids  his  driving  sleets 
Deform  the  day  delightful. 

Thomson. 

The  horn  of  Pierre  Dumont  was  blowing  beneath  the 
windows  of  the  inn  of  Martigny,  with  the  peep  of  dawn. 
Then  followed  the  appearance  of  drowsy  domestics,  the 
saddling  of  unwilling  mules,  and  the  loading  of  baggage. 
A  few  minutes  later  the  little  caravan  was  assembled,  for  the 
cavalcade  almost  deserved  this  name,  and  the  whole  were 
in  motion  for  the  summits  of  the  Alps. 

The  travellers  now  left  the  valley  of  the  Rhone  to  bury 
themselves  amid  those  piles  of  misty  and  confused  moun¬ 
tains,  which  formed  the  background  of  the  picture  they  had 
studied  from  the  castle  of  Blonay  and  the  sheet  of  the 
Leman.  They  soon  plunged  into  a  glen,  and,  following  the 
windings  of  a  brawling  torrent,  were  led  gradually,  and  by 
many  turnings,  into  a  country  of  bleak  upland  pasturage, 
where  the  inhabitants  gained  a  scanty  livehood,  principally 
by  means  of  their  dairies. 

A  few  leagues  above  Martigny,  the  paths  again  separated, 
one  inclining  to  the  left  towards  the  elevated  valley  that 
has  since  become  so  celebrated  in  the  legends  of  this  wild 
region,  by  the  formation  of  a  little  lake  in  its  glacier,  which, 
becoming  too  heavy  for  its  foundation,  broke  through  its 
barrier  of  ice,  and  descended  in  a  mountain  of  water  to  the 
Rhone,  a  distance  of  many  leagues,  sweeping  before  it  every 
vestige  of  civilization  that  crossed  its  course,  and  even 
changing,  in  many  places,  the  face  of  nature  itself.  Here 
the  glittering  peak  of  Velan  became  visible,  and  though  so 
much  nearer  to  the  eye  than  when  viewed  from  Vevey,  it 


294 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


was  still  a  distant  shining  pile,  grand  in  its  solitude  and 
mystery,  on  which  the  sight  loved  to  dwell,  as  it  studies  the 
pure  and  spotless  edges  of  some  sleepy  cloud. 

It  has  already  been  said,  that  the  ascent  of  the  great  St. 
Bernard,  with  the  exception  of  occasional  hills  and  hollows, 
is  nowhere  very  precipitous  but  at  the  point  at  which  the 
last  rampart  of  rock  is  to  be  overcome.  On  the  contrary, 
the  path,  for  leagues  at  a  time,  passes  along  tolerably  even 
valleys,  though  of  necessity  the  general  direction  is  upward, 
and  for  most  of  the  distance  through  a  country  that  admits 
of  cultivation,  though  the  meagreness  of  the  soil,  and  the 
shortness  of  the  seasons,  render  but  an  indifferent  return  to 
the  toil  of  the  husbandman.  In  this  respect  it  differs  from 
most  of  the  other  Alpine  passes  ;  but  if  it  wants  the  variety, 
wildness,  and  sublimity  of  the  Splugen,  the  St.  Gothard,  the 
Gemmi,  and  the  Simplon,  it  is  still  an  ascent  on  a  magnifi¬ 
cent  scale,  and  he  who  journeys  on  its  path  is  raised,  as  it 
were,  by  insensible  degrees,  to  an  elevation  that  gradually 
changes  all  his  customary  associations  with  the  things  of  the 
lower  world. 

From  the  moment  of  quitting  the  inn  to  that  of  the  first 
halt,  Melchior  de  Willading  and  the  Signor  Grimaldi  rode  in 
company,  as  on  the  previous  day.  These  old  friends  had 
much  to  communicate  in  confidential  discourse,  which  the 
presence  of  Roger  de  Blonay,  and  the  importunities  of  the 
bailiff,  had  hitherto  prevented  them  from  freely  saying. 
Both  had  thought  maturely,  too,  on  the  situation  of  Adel- 
lieid,  of  her  hopes,  and  of  her  future  fortunes,  and  both  had 
reasoned  much  as  two  old  nobles  of  that  day,  who  were  not 
without  strong  sympathies  for  their  kind,  while  they  were 
too  practiced  to  overlook  the  world  and  its  ties,  would  be 
likely  to  reason  on  an  affair  of  this  delicate  nature. 

“  There  came  a  feeling  of  regret,  perhaps  I  might  fairly 
call  it  by  its  proper  name,  of  envy,”  observed  the  Genoese, 
in  pursuance  of  the  subject  which  engrossed  most  of 
their  time  and  thoughts,  as  they  rode  slowly  along,  the  bri¬ 
dles  dangling  from  the  necks  of  their  mules,  —  “  there  came 
a  feeling  of  regret,  when  I  first  saw  the  fair  creature  that 
calls  thee  father,  Melchior.  God  has  dealt  mercifully  by  me, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


295 


in  respect  to  many  things  that  make  men  happy  ;  but  He 
rendered  my  marriage  accursed,  not  only  in  its  bud,  but  in 
its  fruit.  Thy  child  is  dutiful  and  loving,  all  that  a  father 
can  wish  ;  and  yet  here  is  this  unusual  attachment  come  to 
embarrass,  if  not  to  defeat,  thy  fair  and  just  hopes  for  her 
welfare  !  This  is  no  common  affair,  that  a  few  threats  of 
bolts  and  a  change  of  scene  will  cure,  but  a  rooted  affection 
that  is  but  too  firmly  based  on  esteem.  By  San  Francesco, 
but  I  think,  at  times,  thou  wouldst  do  well  to  permit  the 
ceremony  !  ” 

“  Should  it  be  our  fortune  to  meet  with  the  absconding 
Jacques  Colis  at  Turin,  he  might  give  us  different  counsel,*’ 
answered  the  old  baron  dryly. 

“  That  is  a  dreadful  barrier  to  our  wishes  !  Were  the 
boy  anything  but  a  headsman’s  child  !  I  do  not  think  thou 
couldst  object,  Melchior,  had  he  merely  come  of  a  hind,  or 
of  some  common  follower  of  thy  family  ?  ” 

“  It  were  far  better  that  he  should  have  come  of  one  like 
ourselves,  Gaetano.  I  reason  but  little  on  the  dogmas  of 
this  or  that  sect  in  politics ;  but  I  feel  and  think,  in  this 
affair,  as  the  parent  of  an  only  child.  All  those  usages  and 
opinions  in  which  we  are  trained,  my  friend,  are  so  many 
ingredients  in  our  happiness,  let  them  be  silly  or  wise,  just 
or  oppressive  ;  and  though  I  would  fain  do  that  which  is 
right  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  I  could  wish  to  begin  to  prac¬ 
tice  innovation  with  any  other  than  my  own  daughter.  Let 
them  who  like  philosophy,  and  justice,  and  natural  rights  so 
well,  commence  by  setting  us  the  example.” 

“  Thou  hast  hit  the  stumbling-block  that  causes  a  thou¬ 
sand  well-digested  plans  for  the  improvement  of  the  world 
to  fail,  honest  Melchior.  Could  we  toil  with  others’  limbs, 
sacrifice  with  others’  groans,  and  pay  with  others’  means, 
there  would  be  no  end  to  our  industry,  our  disinterestedness, 
or  our  liberality ;  and  yet  it  were  a  thousand  pities  that  so 
sweet  a  girl  and  so  noble  a  youth  should  not  yoke  !  ” 

“  ’Twould  be  a  yoke  indeed,  for  a  daughter  of  the  house 
of  Willading,”  returned  the  graver  father,  with  emphasis. 
“  I  have  looked  at  this  matter  in  every  face  that  becomes 
me,  Gaetano,  and  though  I  would  not  rudely  repulse  one  that 


296 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


hath  saved  my  life,  by  driving  him  from  my  company,  at  a 
moment  when  even  strangers  consort  for  mutual  aid  and 
protection,  at  Turin  we  must  part  forever  !  ” 

“  I  know  not  how  to  approve,  nor  yet  how  to  blame  thee, 
poor  Melchior!  ’Twas  a  sad  scene,  that  of  the  refusal  to 
wed  Balthazar’s  daughter,  in  the  presence  of  so  many  thou¬ 
sands  !  ” 

“  I  take  it  as  a  happy  and  kind  warning  of  the  precipice 
to  which  a  foolish  tenderness  was  leading  us  both,  my 
friend.” 

“  Thou  mayst  have  reason  ;  and  yet  I  wish  thou  wert 
more  in  error  than  ever  Christian  was  !  These  are  rugged 
mountains,  Melchior,  and  fairly  passed,  it  might  be  so 
arranged  that  the  boy  should  forget  Switzerland  forever. 
He  might  become  a  Genoese,  in  which  event,  dost  thou  not 
see  the  means  of  overcoming  some  of  the  present  diffi¬ 
culty  ?  ” 

“  Is  the  heiress  of  my  house  a  vagrant,  Signor  Grimaldi, 
to  forget  her  country  and  birth  ?  ” 

“  I  am  childless,  in  effect,  if  not  in  fact ;  and  where  there 
are  the  will  and  the  means,  the  end  should  not  be  wanting. 
We  will  speak  of  this  under  the  warmer  sun  of  Italy,  which 
they  say  is  apt  to  render  hearts  tender.” 

“  The  hearts  of  the  young  and  amorous,  good  Gaetano, 
but,  unless  much  changed  of  late,  it  is  as  apt  to  harden  those 
of  the  old,  as  any  sun  I  know  of,”  returned  the  baron,  shak¬ 
ing  his  head,  though  it  much  exceeded  his  power  to  smile 
at  his  own  pleasantry  when  speaking  on  this  painful  subject. 
“  Thou  knowest  that  in  this  matter  I  act  only  for  the  wel¬ 
fare  of  Adelheid,  without  thought  of  myself ;  and  it  would 
little  comport  with  the  honor  of  a  baron  of  an  ancient  house, 
to  be  the  grandfather  of  children  who  come  of  a  race  of 
executioners.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  succeeded  better  than  his  friend  in 
raising  a  smile,  for,  more  accustomed  to  dive  into  the  depths 
of  human  feeling,  he  was  not  slow  in  detecting  the  mixture 
of  motives  that  were  silently  exercising  their  long-estab¬ 
lished  influence  over  the  heart  of  his  really  well-intentioned 
companion. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


297 


“  So  long  as  thou  speakest  of  the  wisdom  of  respecting 
men’s  opinions,  and  the  danger  of  wrecking  thy  daughter’s 
happiness  by  running  counter  to  their  current,  I  agree  with 
thee  to  the  letter  ;  but,  to  me,  it  seems  possible  so  to  place 
the  affair,  that  the  world  shall  imagine  all  is  in  rule,  and, 
by  consequence,  all  proper.  If  we  can  overcome  ourselves, 
Melchior,  I  apprehend  no  great  difficulty  in  blinding  others.” 

The  head  of  the  Bernois  dropped  upon  his  breast,  and  he 
rode  a  long  distance  in  that  attitude,  reflecting  on  the  course 
it  most  became  him  to  pursue,  and  struggling  with  the  con¬ 
flicting  sentiments  which  troubled  his  upright  but  prejudiced 
mind.  As  his  friend  understood  the  nature  of  this  inward 
strife,  he  ceased  to  speak,  and  a  long  silence  succeeded  the 
discourse. 

It  was  different  with  those  who  followed.  Though  long 
accustomed  to  gaze  at  their  native  mountains  from  a  dis¬ 
tance,  this  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  Adelheid  and  her 
companion  had  ever  actually  penetrated  into  their  glens,  or 
journeyed  on  their  broken  and  changing  faces.  The  path 
of  St.  Bernard,  therefore,  had  all  the  charm  of  novelty,  and 
their  youthful  and  ardent  minds  were  soon  won  from  medi¬ 
tating  on  their  own  causes  of  unhappiness,  to  admiration  of 
the  sublime  works  of  nature.  The  cultivated  taste  of  Adel¬ 
heid,  in  particular,  was  quick  in  detecting  those  beauties  of 
a  more  subtle  kind  which  the  less  instructed  are  apt  to  over¬ 
look,  and  she  found  additional  pleasure  in  pointing  them  out 
to  the  ingenuous  and  wondering  Christine,  who  received 
these,  her  first  lessons  in  that  grand  communion  with  nature 
which  is  pregnant  with  so  much  unalloyed  delight,  with 
gratitude  and  a  readiness  of  comprehension,  that  amply  re¬ 
paid  her  instructress.  Sigismund  was  an  attentive  and 
pleased  listener  to  what  was  passing,  though  one  who  had 
so  often  passed  the  mountains,  and  who  had  seen  them 
familiarly  on  their  warmer  and  more  sunny  side,  had  little 
to  learn,  himself,  even  from  so  skillful  and  alluring  a  teacher. 

As  they  ascended,  the  air  became  purer  and  less  impreg¬ 
nated  with  the  humidity  of  its  lower  currents  ;  changing,  by 
a  process  as  fine  as  that  wrought  by  a  chemical  application, 
the  hues  and  aspect  of  every  object  in  the  view.  A  vast 


298 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


hill-side  lay  basking  in  the  sun,  which  illuminated  on  its 
rounded  swells  a  hundred  long  stripes  of  grain  in  every 
stage  of  verdure,  resembling  so  much  delicate  velvet  that 
was  thrown  in  a  variety  of  accidental  faces  to  the  light, 
while  the  shadows  ran  away,  to  speak  technically,  from  this 
foyer  de  lumiere  of  the  picture,  in  gradations  of  dusky  russet 
and  brown,  until  the  colonne  de  vigueur  was  obtained  in  the 
deep  black  cast  from  the  overhanging  branches  of  a  wood 
of  larch  in  the  depths  of  some  ravine,  into  which  the  sight 
with  difficulty  penetrated.  These  were  the  beauties  on 
which  Adelheid  most  loved  to  dwell,  for  they  are  always  the 
charms  that  soonest  strike  the  true  admirer  of  nature,  when 
he  finds  himself  raised  above  the  lower  and  less  purified 
strata  of  the  atmosphere,  into  the  regions  of  more  radiant 
light  and  brightness.  It  is  thus  that  the  physical,  no  less 
than  the  moral,  vision  becomes  elevated  above  the  impuri¬ 
ties  that  cling  to  this  nether  world,  attaining  a  portion  of 
that  spotless  and  sublime  perception  as  we  ascend,  by  which 
we  are  nearly  assimilated  to  the  truths  of  creation  ;  a  poet¬ 
ical  type  of  the  greater  and  purer  enjoyment  we  feel,  as 
morally  receding  from  earth  we  draw  nearer  to  heaven. 

The  party  rested  for  several  hours,  as  usual,  at  the  little 
mountain  hamlet  of  Liddes.  At  the  present  time,  it  is  not 
uncommon  for  the  traveller,  favored  by  a  wheel-track  along 
this  portion  of  the  route,  to  ascend  the  mountain  and  to 
return  to  Martigny  in  the  same  day.  The  descent  in  par¬ 
ticular,  after  reaching  the  village  just  named,  is  soon  made  ; 
but  at  the  period  of  our  tale,  such  an  exploit,  if  ever  made, 
was  of  very  rare  occurrence.  The  fatigue  of  being  in  the 
saddle  so  many  hours  compelled  our  party  to  remain  at  the 
inn  much  longer  than  is  now  practiced,  and  their  utmost 
hope  was  to  be  able  to  reach  the  convent  before  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun  had  ceased  to  light  the  glittering  peak  of 
Velan. 

There  occurred  here,  too,  some  unexpected  detention  on 
the  part  of  Christine,  who  had  retired  with  Sigismund  soon 
after  reaching  the  inn,  and  who  did  not  rejoin  the  party 
until  the  impatience  of  the  guide  had  more  than  once  mani¬ 
fested  itself  in  such  complaints  as  one  in  his  situation  is  apt 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


299 


to  hazard.  Adelheid  saw  with  pain,  when  her  friend  did  at 
length  rejoin  them,  that  she  had  been  weeping  bitterly; 
but,  too  delicate  to  press  her  for  an  explanation  on  a  subject 
in  which  it  was  evident  the  brother  and  sister  did  not  desire 
to  bestow  their  confidence,  she  communicated  her  readiness 
to  depart  to  the  domestics,  without  the  slightest  allusion  to 
the  change  in  Christine’s  appearance,  or  to  the  unexpected 
delay  of  which  she  had  been  the  cause. 

Pierre  muttered  an  ave  in  thankfulness  that  the  long  halt 
was  ended.  He  then  crossed  himself  with  one  hand,  while 
with  the  other  he  flourished  his  whip,  among  a  crowd  of 
gaping  urchins  and  slavering  cretins,  to  clear  the  way  for 
those  he  guided.  His  followers  were,  in  the  main,  of  a 
different  mood.  If  the  traveller  too  often  reaches  the  inn 
hungry  and  disposed  to  find  fault,  he  usually  quits  it  good- 
humored  and  happy.  The  restoration,  as  it  is  well  called  in 
France,  effected  by  means  of  the  larder  and  the  resting  of 
wearied  limbs,  is  usually  communicated  to  the  spirits ;  and 
it  must  be  a  crusty  humor  indeed,  or  singularly  bad  fare, 
that  prevents  a  return  to  a  placid  state  of  mind.  The  party 
under  the  direction  of  Pierre  formed  no  exception  to  the 
general  rule.  The  two  old  nobles  had  so  far  forgotten  the 
subject  of  their  morning  dialogue,  as  to  be  facetious ;  and, 
ere  long,  even  their  gentle  companions  were  disposed  to 
laugh  at  some  of  their  sallies,  in  spite  of  the  load  of  care 
that  weighed  so  constantly  and  so  heavily  on  both.  In 
short,  such  is  the  waywardness  of  our  feelings,  and  so  diffi¬ 
cult  is  it  to  be  always  sorrowful  as  well  as  always  happy, 
that  the  well-satisfied  landlady,  who  had,  in  truth,  received 
the  full  value  of  a  very  indifferent  fare,  was  ready  to  affirm, 
as  she  courtesied  her  thanks  on  the  dirty  threshold,  that  a 
merrier  party  had  never  left  her  door. 

“We  shall  take  our  revenge  out  of  the  casks  of  the  good 
Augustines  to-night  for  the  sour  liquor  of  this  inn.  Is  it 
not  so,  honest  Pierre  ?  ”  demanded  the  Signor  Grimaldi, 
adjusting  himself  in  the  saddle,  as  they  got  clear  of  the 
stones,  sinuosities,  projecting  roofs,  and  filth  of  the  village, 
into  the  more  agreeable  windings  of  the  ordinary  path  again. 
“  Our  friend,  the  clavier,  is  apprised  of  the  visit,  and  as  we 


300 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


have  already  gone  through  fair  and  foul  in  company,  I  look 
to  his  fellowship  for  some  compensation  for  the  frugal  meal 
of  which  we  have  just  partaken.” 

“  Father  Xavier  is  a  hospitable  and  happy-minded  priest, 
Signore ;  and  that  the  saints  will  long  leave  him  keeper  of 
the  convent-keys,  is  the  prayer  of  every  muleteer,  guide,  or 
pilgrim,  who  crosses  the  Col.  I  wish  we  were  going  up  the 
rough  steps  by  which  we  are  to  climb  the  last  rock  of  the 
mountain,  at  this  very  moment,  Messieurs,  and  that  all  the 
rest  of  the  way  were  as  fairly  done  as  this  we  have  so  hap¬ 
pily  passed.” 

“  Dost  thou  anticipate  difficulty,  friend  ?  ”  demanded  the 
Italian,  leaning  forward  on  his  saddle-bow,  for  his  quick 
observation  had  caught  the  examining  glance  that  the  guide 
threw  around  at  the  heavens. 

“  Difficulty  is  a  meaning  not  easily  admitted  by  a  moun¬ 
taineer,  Signore,  and  I  am  one  of  the  last  to  think  of  it,  or 
feel  its  dread.  Still,  we  are  near  the  end  of  the  season, 
and  these  hills  are  high  and  bleak,  and  those  that  follow 
are  delicate  flowers  for  a  stormy  heath.  Toil  is  always 
sweeter  in  the  remembrance  than  in  the  expectation.  I 
mean  no  more,  if  I  mean  that.” 

Pierre  stopped  his  march  as  he  ceased  speaking.  He 
stood  on  a  little  eminence  of  the  path,  whence,  by  looking 
back,  he  commanded  a  view  of  the  opening  among  the 
mountains  which  indicates  the  site  of  the  valley  of  the 
Rhone.  The  look  was  long  and  understanding  ;  but  when 
it  was  ended,  he  turned  and  resumed  his  march  with  the 
business-like  air  of  one  more  disposed  to  act  than  to  specu¬ 
late  on  the  future.  But  for  the  few  words  which  had  just 
escaped  him,  this  natural  movement  would  have  attracted 
no  attention ;  and,  as  it  was,  it  was  observed  by  none  but 
the  Signor  Grimaldi,  who  would  himself  have  attached  lit¬ 
tle  importance  to  the  whole,  had  the  guide  maintained  his 
usual  pace. 

As  is  common  in  the  Alps,  the  conductor  of  the  travel¬ 
lers  went  on  foot,  leading  the  whole  party  at  such  a  gait  as 
he  thought  most  expedient  for  man  and  beast.  Hitherto, 
Pierre  had  proceeded  with  sufficient  leisure,  rendering  it 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


301 


necessary  for  those  who  followed,  to  observe  the  same  mod¬ 
eration  ;  but  he  now  walked  sensibly  faster,  and  frequently 
so  fast  as  to  make  it  necessary  for  the  mules  to  break  into 
easy  trots,  in  order  to  maintain  their  proper  stations.  All 
this,  however,  was  ascribed  by  most  of  the  party  to  the 
formation  of  the  ground,  for,  after  leaving  Liddes,  there  is 
a  long  reach  of  what,  among  the  upper  valleys  of  the  Alps, 
may  by  comparison  be  called  a  level  road.  This  industry, 
too,  was  thought  to  be  doubly  necessary,  in  order  to  repair 
the  time  lost  at  the  inn,  for  the  sun  was  already  dipping 
towards  the  western  boundary  of  their  narrow  view  of  the 
heavens,  and  the  temperature  announced,  if  not  a  sudden 
change  in  the  weather,  at  least  the  near  approach  of  the 
periodical  turn  of  the  day. 

“We  travel  by  a  very  ancient  path,”  observed  the  Sig¬ 
nor  Grimaldi,  when  his  thoughts  had  reverted  from  their 
reflections  on  the  movements  of  the  guide  to  the  circum¬ 
stance  of  their  present  situation.  “  A  very  reverend  path, 
it  might  be  termed  in  compliment  to  the  worthy  monks  who 
do  so  much  to  lessen  its  dangers,  and  to  its  great  antiquity. 
History  speaks  often  of  its  use  by  different  leaders  of 
armies,  or  it  has  long  been  a  thoroughfare  for  those  who 
journey  between  the  north  and  the  south,  whether  it  be  in 
strife  or  in  amity.  In  the  time  of  Augustus  it  was  the 
route  commonly  used  by  the  Roman  legions  in  their  pas¬ 
sages  to  and  from  Helvetia  and  Gaul ;  the  followers  of 
Cascina  went  by  these  gorges  to  their  attack  upon  Otho, 
and  the  Lombards  made  the  same  use  of  it,  five  hundred 
years  later.  It  was  often  trod  by  armed  bands,  in  the  wars 
of  Charles  of  Burgundy,  those  of  Milan,  and  in  the  con¬ 
quests  of  Charlemagne.  I  remember  a  tale,  in  which  it  is 
said  that  a  horde  of  infidel  Corsairs  from  the  Mediterranean 
penetrated  by  this  road,  and  seized  upon  the  bridge  of  St. 
Maurice  with  a  view  to  plunder.  As  we  are  not  the  first, 
so  it  is  probable  we  are  not  to  be  the  last  who  have  trusted 
themselves  in  these  regions,  bent  on  our  objects,  whether 
of  love  or  of  strife.” 

“  Signore,”  observed  Pierre  respectfully,  when  the  Gen¬ 
oese  ceased  speaking,  “  if  your  eccellenza  would  make  your 


802 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


discourse  less  learned,  and  more  in  those  familiar  words 
which  can  be  said  under  a  brisk  movement,  it  might  better 
suit  the  time  and  the  great  necessity  there  is  to  be  diligent.” 

“  Dost  thou  apprehend  danger  ?  Are  we  behind  our 
time  ?  Speak  ;  for  I  dislike  concealment.” 

“  Danger  has  a  strong  meaning  in  the  mouth  of  a  moun¬ 
taineer,  Signore  ;  for  what  is  security  on  this  path,  might 
be  thought  alarming  lower  down  in  the  valleys ;  I  say  it 
not.  But  the  sun  is  touching  the  rocks,  as  you  see,  and  we 
are  drawing  near  to  places  where  a  misstep  of  a  mule  in 
the  dark  might  cost  us  dear.  I  would  that  all  diligently 
improve  the  daylight  while  they  can.” 

The  Genoese  did  not  answer,  but  he  urged  his  mule  again 
to  a  gait  that  was  more  in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of 
Pierre.  The  movement  was  followed,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
by  the  rest,  and  the  whole  party  was  once  more  in  a  gentle 
trot,  which  was  scarcely  sufficient,  however,  to  keep  even 
pace  with  the  long,  impatient,  and  rapid  strides  of  Pierre, 
who,  notwithstanding  his  years,  appeared  to  get  over  the 
ground  with  a  facility  that  cost  him  no  effort.  Hitherto  the 
heat  had  not  been  small,  and,  in  that  pure  atmosphere,  all 
its  powers  were  felt  during  the  time  the  sun’s  rays  fell  into 
the  valley ;  but  the  instant  they  were  intercepted  by  a 
brown  and  envious  peak  of  the  mountains,  their  genial 
influence  was  succeeded  by  a  chill  that  sufficiently  proved 
how  necessary  was  the  presence  of  the  luminary  to  the 
comfort  of  those  who  dwelt  at  that  great  elevation.  The 
females  sought  their  mantles  the  moment  the  bright  light 
was  followed  by  the  usual  shadow ;  nor  was  it  long  before 
even  the  more  aged  of  the  gentlemen  were  seen  unstrapping 
their  cloaks,  and  taking  the  customary  precautions  against 
the  effects  of  the  evening  air. 

The  reader  is  not  to  suppose,  however,  that  all  these  lit¬ 
tle  incidents  of  the  way  occurred  in  a  time  as  brief  as  that 
which  has  been  consumed  in  the  narration.  A  long  line  of 
path  was  travelled  over  before  the  Signor  Grimaldi  and  his 
friend  were  cloaked,  and  divers  hamlets  and  cabins  were 
successively  passed.  The  alteration  from  the  warmth  of 
day  to  the  chill  of  evening  also  was  accompanied  by  a  cor- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


303 


responding  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  objects  they 
passed.  St.  Pierre,  a  cluster  of  stone-roofed  cottages,  which 
bore  all  the  characteristics  of  the  inhospitable  region  for 
which  they  had  been  constructed,  was  the  last  village  ; 
though  there  was  a  hamlet,  at  the  bridge  of  Hudri,  com¬ 
posed  of  a  few  dreary  abodes,  which,  by  their  aspect,  seemed 
the  connecting  link  between  the  dwellings  of  man  and  the 
caverns  of  beasts.  Vegetation  had  long  been  growing  more 
and  more  meagre,  and  it  was  now  fast  melting  away  into 
still  deeper  and  irretrievable  traces  of  sterility,  like  the 
shadows  of  a  picture  passing  through  their  several  transi¬ 
tions  of  color  to  the  depth  of  the  background.  The  larches 
and  cedars  diminished  gradually  in  size  and  numbers,  until 
the  straggling  and  stinted  tree  became  a  bush,  and  the  lat¬ 
ter  finally  disappeared  in  the  shape  of  a  tuft  of  pale  green, 
that  adhered  to  some  crevice  in  the  rocks  like  so  much 
moss.  Even  the  mountain  grasses,  for  which  Switzerland  is 
so  justly  celebrated,  grew  thin  and  wiry  ;  and  by  the  time 
the  travellers  reached  the  circular  basin  at  the  foot  of  the 
peak  of  Velan,  which  is  called  La  Plaine  de  Prou,  there 
only  remained,  in  the  most  genial  season  of  the  year,  and 
that  in  isolated  spots  between  the  rocks,  a  sufficiency  of 
nourishment  for  the  support  of  a  small  flock  of  adventurous, 
nibbling,  and  hungry  goats. 

The  basin  just  alluded  to  is  in  an  opening  among  high 
pinnacles,  and  is  nearly  surrounded  by  naked  and  rugged 
rocks.  The  path  led  through  its  centre,  always  ascending 
on  an  inclined  plane,  and  disappeared  through  a  narrow 
gorge  around  the  brow  of  a  beetling  cliff.  Pierre  pointed 
out  the  latter  as  the  pass  by  far  the  most  dangerous  on  this 
side  the  Col,  in  the  season  of  the  melting  snows,  avalanches 
frequently  rolling  from  its  crags.  There  was  no  cause  for 
apprehending  this  well-known  Alpine  danger,  however,  in 
the  present  moment ;  for,  with  the  exception  of  Mont- Velan, 
all  above  and  around  them  lay  the  same  dreary  dress  of 
sterility.  Indeed,  it  wTould  not  be  easy  for  the  imagination 
to  conceive  a  more  eloquent  picture  of  desolation  than  that 
which  met  the  eyes  of  the  travellers,  as,  following  the  course 
of  the  run  of  water  that  trickled  through  the  middle  of  the 


304 


TIIE  HEADSMAN. 


inhospitable  valley,  the  certain  indication  of  the  general 
direction  of  their  course,  they  reached  its  centre. 

The  time  was  getting  to  be  that  of  early  twilight,  but 
the  sombre  color  of  the  rocks,  streaked  and  venerable  by 
the  ferruginous  hue  with  which  time  had  coated  their  sides, 
and  the  depth  of  the  basin,  gave  to  their  situation  a  mel¬ 
ancholy  gloom  passing  the  duskiness  of  the  hour.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  light  rested  bright  and  gloriously  on  the 
snowy  peak  of  Velan,  still  many  thousand  feet  above  them, 
though  in  plain,  and  apparently  in  near  view ;  while  rich 
touches  of  the  setting  sun  were  gleaming  on  several  of  the 
brown,  natural  battlements  of  the  Alps,  which,  worn  with 
eternal  exposure  to  the  storms,  still  lay  in  sublime  confusion 
at  a  most  painful  elevation  in  their  front.  The  azure  vault 
that  canopied  all,  had  that  look  of  distant  glory  and  of 
grand  repose,  which  so  often  meets  the  eye,  and  so  forcibly 
strikes  the  mind,  of  him  who  travels  in  the  deep  valleys 
and  embedded  lakes  of  Switzerland.  The  glacier  of  Val- 
sorey  descended  from  the  upper  region  nearly  to  the  edge 
of  the  valley,  bright  and  shining,  its  lower  margin  streaked 
and  dirty  with  the  debris  of  the  overhanging  rocks,  as  if 
doomed  to  the  fate  of  all  that  came  upon  the  earth,  that  of 
sharing  its  impurities. 

There  no  longer  existed  any  human  habitation  between 
the  point  which  the  travellers  had  now  attained  and  the 
convent,  though  more  modern  speculation,  in  this  age  of 
curiosity  and  restlessness,  has  been  induced  to  rear  a  sub¬ 
stitute  for  an  inn  in  the  sj>ot  just  described,  with  the  hope 
of  gleaning  a  scanty  tribute  from  those  who  fail  of  arriv¬ 
ing  in  season  to  share  the  hospitality  of  the  monks.  The 
chilliness  of  the  air  increased  faster  even  than  the  natural 
change  of  the  hour  would  seem  to  justify,  and  there  were 
moments  when  the  dull  sound  of  the  wind  descended  to 
their  ears,  though  not  a  breath  was  stirring  a  withered  and 
nearly  solitary  blade  of  grass  at  their  feet.  Once  or  twice, 
large  black  clouds  drove  across  the  opening  above  them, 
resembling  heavy-winged  vultures  sailing  in  the  void,  pre¬ 
paratory  to  a  swoop  upon  their  prey. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


305 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Through  this  gap 

On  and  say  nothing,  lest  a  word,  a  breath, 

Bring  down  a  winter’s  snow,  enough  to  whelm 
The  armed  files  that  night  and  day  were  seen 
Winding  from  cliff  to  cliff  in  loose  array, 

To  conquer  at  Marengo. 

Italy. 

Pierre  Dumont  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  sterile 
little  plain,  while  he  signed  for  those  he  conducted  to 
continue  their  ascent.  As  each  mule  passed,  it  received  a 
blow  or  a  kick  from  the  impatient  guide,  who  did  not 
seem  to  think  it  necessary  to  be  very  ceremonious  with  the 
poor  beasts,  and  had  taken  this  simple  method  to  give  a 
general  and  a  brisker  impulsion  to  the  party.  The  expe¬ 
dient  was  so  natural,  and  so  much  in  accordance  with  the 
practice  of  the  muleteers  and  others  of  their  class,  that  it 
excited  no  suspicion  in  most  of  the  travellers,  who  pursued 
their  way,  either  meditating  on  and  enjoying  the  novel 
and  profound  emotions  that  their  present  situation  so  nat¬ 
urally  awakened,  or  discoursing  lightly,  in  the  manner  of 
the  thoughtless  and  unconcerned.  The  Signor  Grimaldi 
alone,  whose  watchfulness  had  already  been  quickened  by 
previous  distrust,  took  heed  of  the  movement.  When  all 
had  jiassed,  the  Genoese  turned  in  his  saddle,  and  cast  an 
apparently  careless  look  behind.  But  the  glance  in  truth 
was  anxious  and  keen.  Pierre  stood  looking  steadily  at 
the  heavens,  one  hand  holding  his  hat,  and  the  other  ex¬ 
tended  with  an  open  palm.  A  glittering  particle  descended 
to  the  latter,  when  the  guide  instantly  resumed  his  place 
in  advance.  As  he  passed  the  Italian,  however,  meeting 
an  inquiring  look,  he  permitted  the  other  to  see  a  snow¬ 
drop  so  thoroughly  congealed,  as  to  have  not  yet  melted 

with  the  natural  heat  of  his  skin.  The  eye  of  Pierre  ap- 

20 


306 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


peared  to  impose  discretion  on  his  confidant,  and  the  silent 
communion  escaped  the  observation  of  the  rest  of  the 
travellers.  Just  at  this  moment,  too,  the  attention  of  the 
others  was  luckily  called  to  a  different  object  by  a  cry 
from  one  of  the  muleteers,  of  whom  there  were  three  as 
assistants  to  the  guide.  He  pointed  out  a  party  which, 
like  themselves,  was  holding  the  direction  of  the  Col. 
There  was  a  solitary  individual  mounted  on  a  mule,  and  a 
single  pedestrian,  without  any  guide,  or  other  traveller,  in 
their  company.  Their  movements  were  swift,  and  they 
had  not  been  more  than  a  minute  in  view,  before  they 
disappeared  behind  an  angle  of  the  crags  which  nearly 
closed  the  valley  on  the  side  of  the  convent,  and  which 
was  the  precise  spot  already  mentioned  as  being  so  danger¬ 
ous  in  the  season  of  the  melting  snows. 

“  Dost  thou  know  the  quality  and  object  of  the  travel¬ 
lers  before  us  ?  ”  demanded  the  Baron  de  Willading  of 
Pierre. 

The  latter  mused.  It  was  evident  he  did  not  expect  to 
meet  with  strangers  in  that  particular  part  of  the  passage. 

“  We  can  know  little  of  those  who  come  from  the  con¬ 
vent,  though  few  would  be  apt  to  leave  so  safe  a  roof  at 
this  late  hour,”  he  answered  ;  “  but,  until  I  saw  yonder 
travellers  with  my  own  eyes,  I  could  have  sworn  there 
were  none  on  this  side  of  the  Col  going  the  same  way  as 
ourselves.  It  is  time  that  all  the  others  were  already 
arrived.” 

“  They  are  villagers  of  St.  Pierre,  going  up  with  sup¬ 
plies,”  observed  one  of  the  muleteers.  “  None  bound  to 
Italy  have  passed  Liddes  since  the  party  of  Pippo,  and 
they  by  this  time  should  be  well  housed  at  the  hospice. 
Didst  not  see  a  dog  among  them  ?  —  ’twas  one  of  the 
Augustines’  mastiffs.” 

“  ’Twas  the  dog  I  noted,  and  it  was  on  account  of  his 
appearance  that  I  spoke,”  returned  the  baron.  “  The 
animal  had  the  air  of  an  old  acquaintance,  Gaetano,  for  to 
me  it  seemed  to  resemble  our  tried  friend  Nettuno  ;  and 
he  at  whose  heels  it  kept  so  close  wore  much  the  air  of 
our  acquaintance  of  the  Leman,  the  bold  and  ready 
Maso.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


307 


“Who  has  gone  unrequited  for  his  eminent  services!” 
answered  the  Genoese,  thoughtfully.  “  The  extraordinary 
refusal  of  that  man  to  receive  our  money  is  quite  as  won¬ 
derful  as  any  other  part  of  his  unusual  and  inexplicable 
conduct.  I  would  he  had  been  less  obstinate  or  less  proud, 
for  the  unrequited  obligation  rests  like  a  load  upon  my 
spirits.” 

“  Thou  art  wrong.  I  employed  our  young  friend  Sig- 
ismund  secretly  on  this  duty,  while  we  were  receiving  the 
greetings  of  Roger  de  Blonay  and  the  good  bailiff,  but  thy 
countryman  treated  the  escape  lightly,  as  the  mariner  is 
apt  to  consider  past  danger,  and  he  would  listen  to  no  offer 
of  protection  or  gold.  I  was,  therefore,  more  displeased 
than  surprised  by  what  thou  hast  well  enough  termed  ob¬ 
stinacy.” 

“  ‘  Tell  your  employers/  he  said,”  added  Sigismund, 
“  6  that  they  may  thank  the  saints,  Our  Lady,  or  brother 
Luther,  as  best  suits  their  habits,  but  that  they  had  better 
forget  that  such  a  man  as  Maso  lives.  His  acquaintance 
can  bring  them  neither  honor  nor  advantage.  Tell  this 
especially  to  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  when  you  are  on  your 
journey  to  Italy,  and  we  have  parted  forever,  as  on  my 
suggestion.’  This  was  said  to  me,  in  the  interview  I  held 
with  the  brave  fellow  after  his  liberation  from  prison.” 

“  The  answer  was  remarkable  for  a  man  of  his  condi¬ 
tion,  and  the  especial  message  to  myself  of  singular  excep¬ 
tion.  I  observed  that  his  eye  was  often  on  me,  with  pecul¬ 
iar  meaning,  during  the  passage  of  the  lake,  and  to  this 
hour  I  have  not  been  able  to  explain  the  motive  !  ” 

“  Is  the  Signore  of  Genoa  ?  ”  asked  the  guide  ;  “  or  is 
he,  by  chance,  in  any  way  connected  with  her  authori¬ 
ties  ?  ” 

“  Of  that  republic  and  city,  and  certainly  of  some  little 
interest  with  the  authorities,”  answered  the  Italian,  a 
slight  smile  curling  his  lip,  as  he  glanced  a  look  at  his 
friend. 

11  It  is  not  necessary  to  look  further  for  Maso’s  acquaint¬ 
ance  with  your  features,”  returned  Pierre,  laughing  ;  “  for 
of  all  who  live  in  Italy,  there  is  not  a  man  who  has  more 


308 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


frequent  occasions  to  know  the  authorities ;  but  we  linger 
in  this  gossip.  Urge  the  beasts  upwards,  Etienne ; 
presto  !  —  presto  !  ” 

The  muleteers  answered  this  appeal  by  one  of  their  long 
cries,  which  has  a  resemblance  to  the  rattling  that  is  the 
well-known  signal  of  the  venomous  serpent  of  this  coun¬ 
try,  when  he  would  admonish  the  traveller  to  move 
quickly,  and  which  certainly  produces  the  same  startling 
effect  on  the  nerves  of  the  mule  as  the  signal  of  the  snake 
is  very  apt  to  excite  in  man.  This  interruption  caused  the 
dialogue  to  be  dropped,  all  riding  onward,  musing  in  their 
several  fashions  on  what  had  just  passed.  In  a  few  min¬ 
utes  the  party  turned  the  crag  in  question,  and,  quitting 
the  valley,  or  sterile  basin,  in  which  they  had  been  jour¬ 
neying  for  the  last  half  hour,  they  entered  by  a  narrow 
gorge  into  a  scene  that  resembled  a  crude  collection  of 
the  materials  of  which  the  foundations  of  the  world  had 
been  originally  formed.  There  was  no  longer  any  vegeta¬ 
tion  at  all,  or,  if  here  and  there  a  blade  of  grass  had  put 
forth  under  the  shelter  of  some  stone,  it  was  so  meagre, 
and  of  so  rare  occurrence,  as  to  be  unnoticed  in  that  sub¬ 
lime  scene  of  chaotic  confusion.  Ferruginous,  streaked, 
naked,  and  cheerless  rocks  arose  around  them,  and  even 
that  snowy  beacon,  the  glowing  summit  of  Velan,  which 
had  so  long  lain  bright  and  cheering  on  their  path,  was 
now  hid  entirely  from  view.  Pierre  Dumont  soon  after 
pointed  out  a  place  on  the  visible  summit  of  the  mountain, 
where  a  gorge  between  the  neighboring  peaks  admitted  a 
view  of  the  heavens  beyond.  This  he  informed  those  he 
guided  was  the  Col,  through  whose  opening  the  pile  of  the 
Alps  was  to  be  finally  surmounted.  The  light  that  still 
tranquilly  reigned  in  this  part  of  the  heavens  was  in  sub¬ 
lime  contrast  to  the  gathering  gloom  of  the  passes  below, 
and  all  hailed  this  first  glimpse  of  the  end  of  their  day’s 
toil  as  a  harbinger  of  rest,  and  we  might  add  of  security; 
for,  although  none  but  the  Signor  Grimaldi  had  detected 
the  secret  uneasiness  of  Pierre,  it  was  not  possible  to  be, 
at  that  late  hour,  amid  so  wild  and  dreary  a  display  of 
desolation,  and,  as  it  were,  cut  off  from  communion  with 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


309 


their  kind,  without  experiencing  an  humbling  sense  of  the 
dependence  of  man  upon  the  grand  and  ceaseless  Provi¬ 
dence  of  God. 

The  mules  were  again  urged  to  increase  their  pace,  and 
images  of  the  refreshment  and  repose  that  were  expected 
from  the  convent’s  hospitality,  became  general  and  grate¬ 
ful  among  the  travellers.  The  day  was  fast  disappearing 
from  the  glens  and  ravines  through  which  they  rode,  and 
all  discourse  ceased  in  the  desire  to  get  on.  The  exceed- 
ing  purity  of  the  atmosphere,  which,  at  that  great  eleva¬ 
tion,  resembled  a  medium  of  thought  rather  than  of  mat¬ 
ter,  rendered  objects  defined,  just,  and  clear  ;  and  none 
but  the  mountaineers  and  Sigismund,  who  were  used  to  the 
deception  (for  in  effect  truth  obtains  this  character  with 
those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  the  false),  and  who 
understood  the  grandeur  of  the  scale  on  which  Nature  has 
displayed  her  power  among  the  Alps,  knew  how  to  calcu¬ 
late  the  distance  which  still  separated  them  from  their 
goal.  More  than  a  league  of  painful  and  stony  ascent 
was  to  be  surmounted,  and  yet  Adelheid  and  Christine  had 
both  permitted  slight  exclamations  of  pleasure  to  escape 
them,  when  Pierre  pointed  to  the  speck  of  blue  sky  be¬ 
tween  the  hoary  pinnacles  above,  and  first  gave  them  to 
understand  that  it  denoted  the  position  of  the  convent. 
Here  and  there,  too,  small  patches  of  the  last  year’s  snow 
were  discovered,  lying  under  the  shadows  of  overhanging 
rocks,  and  which  were  likely  to  resist  the  powers  of  the 
sun  till  winter  came  again  ;  another  certain  sign  that  they 
had  reached  a  height  greatly  exceeding  that  of  the  usual 
habitations  of  men.  The  keenness  of  the  air  was  another 
proof  of  their  situation,  for  all  the  travellers  had  heard 
that  the  Augustines  dwelt  among  eternal  frosts,  a  report 
which  is  nearly  literally  true. 

At  no  time  during  the  day  had  the  industry  of  the 
party  been  as  great  as  it  now  became.  In  this  respect, 
the  ordinary  traveller  is  apt  to  resemble  him  who  journeys 
on  the  great  highway  of  life,  and  who  finds  himself 
obliged,  by  a  tardy  and  ill-requited  diligence  in  age,  to 
repair  those  omissions  and  negligences  of  youth  which 


310 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


would  have  rendered  the  end  of  his  toil  easy  and  profita¬ 
ble.  Improved  as  their  speed  had  become,  it  continued  to 
increase  rather  than  to  diminish,  for  Pierre  Dumont  kept 
his  eye  riveted  on  the  heavens,  and  each  moment  of  time 
seemed  to  bring  new  incentives  to  exertion.  The  wearied 
beasts  manifested  less  zeal  than  the  guide,  and  they  who 
rode  them  were  beginning  to  murmur  at  the  unreasonable¬ 
ness  of  the  rate  at  which  they  were  compelled  to  proceed 
on  the  narrow,  uneven,  stony  path,  where  footing  for  the 
animals  was  not  always  obtained  with  the  necessary  quick¬ 
ness,  when  a  gloom  deeper  than  that  cast  by  the  shadows 
of  the  rocks  fell  upon  their  track,  and  the  air  filled  with 
snow  as  suddenly  as  if  all  its  particles  had  been  formed 
and  condensed  by  the  application  of  some  prompt  chemi¬ 
cal  process. 

The  change  was  so  unexpected,  and  yet  so  complete, 
that  the  whole  party  checked  their  mules,  and  sat  looking 
up  at  the  millions  of  flakes  that  were  descending  on  their 
heads,  with  more  wonder  and  admiration  than  fear.  A 
shout  from  Pierre  first  aroused  them  from  this  trance,  and 
recalled  them  to  a  sense  of  the  real  state  of  things.  He 
was  standing  on  a  knoll,  already  separated  from  the  party 
by  some  fifty  yards,  white  with  snow,  and  gesticulating 
violently  for  the  travellers  to  come  on. 

“For  the  sake  of  the  blessed  Maria,  quicken  the 
beasts !  ”  he  cried  ;  for  Pierre,  like  most  who  dwelt  in 
Valais,  was  a  Catholic,  and  one  accustomed  to  bethink 
him  most  of  his  heavenly  mediator  when  most  oppressed 
with  present  dangers ;  “  quicken  their  speed,  if  you  value 
your  lives  !  This  is  no  moment  to  gaze  at  the  mountains, 
which  are  well  enough  in  their  way,  and  no  doubt  both 
the  finest  and  largest  known  ”  (no  Swiss  ever  seriously 
vituperates  or  loses  his  profound  veneration  for  his  be¬ 
loved  nature),  “  but  which  had  better  be  the  humblest 
plain  on  earth  for  our  occasions  than  what  they  truly  are. 
Quicken  the  mules,  then,  for  the  love  of  the  Blessed  Vir¬ 
gin  !  ” 

“  Thou  betrayest  unnecessary,  and,  for  one  that  had 
needs  be  cool,  indiscreet  alarm,  at  the  appearance  of  a 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


311 


little  snow,  friend  Pierre,”  observed  the  Signor  Grimaldi, 
as  the  mules  drew  near  the  guide,  and  speaking  with  a 
little  of  the  irony  of  a  soldier  who  had  steeled  his  nerves 
by  familiarity  with  danger.  “Even  we  Italians,  though 
less  used  to  the  frosts  than  you  of  the  mountains,  are  not 
so  much  disturbed  by  the  change,  as  thou,  a  trained  guide 
of  St.  Bernard  !  ” 

“  Reproach  me  as  you  will,  Signore,”  said  Pierre,  turn¬ 
ing  and  pursuing  his  way  with  increased  diligence,  though 
he  did  not  entirely  succeed  in  concealing  his  resentment 
at  an  accusation  which  he  knew  to  be  unmerited,  “  but 
quicken  your  pace ;  until  you  are  better  acquainted  with 
the  country  in  which  you  journey,  your  words  pass  for 
empty  breath  in  my  ears.  This  is  no  trifle  of  a  cloak 
doubled  about  the  person,  or  of  balls  rolled  into  piles  by 
the  sport  of  children  ;  but  an  affair  of  life  or  death.  You 
are  a  half  league  in  the  air,  Signor  Genoese,  in  the  region 
of  storms,  where  the  winds  work  their  will,  at  times,  as  if 
infernal  devils  were  rioting  to  cool  themselves,  and  where 
the  stoutest  limbs  and  the  firmest  hearts  are  brought  but 
too  often  to  see  and  confess  their  feebleness  !  ” 

The  old  man  had  uncovered  his  blanched  locks  in 
respect  to  the  Italian,  as  he  uttered  this  energetic  remon¬ 
strance,  and  when  he  ended,  he  walked  on  with  professional 
pride,  as  if  disdaining  to  protect  a  brow  that  had  already 
weathered  so  many  tempests  among  the  mountains. 

“  Cover  thyself,  good  Pierre,  I  pray*  thee,”  urged  the 
Genoese  in  a  tone  of  repentance.  “I  have  shown  the 
intemperance  of  a  boy,  and  intemperance  of  a  quality  that 
little  becomes  my  years.  Thou  art  the  best  judge  of  the 
circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed,  and  thou  alone 
shalt  lead  us.” 

Pierre  accepted  the  apology  with  a  manly  but  respectful 
reverence,  continuing  always  to  ascend  with  unremitted 
industry. 

Ten  gloomy  and  anxious  minutes  succeeded.  During 
this  time,  the  falling  snows  came  faster  and  faster  and  in 
finer  flakes,  while,  occasionally,  there  were  fearful  inti¬ 
mations  that  the  winds  were  about  to  rise.  At  the  ele- 


312 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


vation  in  which  the  travellers  now  found  themselves, 
phenomena  that  would  ordinarily  be  of  little  account,  be¬ 
come  the  arbiters  of  fate.  The  escape  of  the  caloric  from 
the  human  system,  at  the  height  of  six  or  seven  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  in  the  latitude  of  forty-six,  is, 
under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  frequently  of 
itself  the  source  of  inconvenience;  but  here  were  grave 
additional  reasons  to  heighten  the  danger.  The  absence 
of  the  sun’s  rays  alone  left  a  sense  of  chilling  cold,  and  a 
few  hours  of  night  were  certain  to  bring  frost,  even  at 
midsummer.  Thus  it  is  that  storms  of  trifling  import  in 
themselves,  gain  power  over  the  human  frame,  by  its 
reduced  means  of  resistance,  and  when  to  this  fact  is  added 
the  knowledge  that  the  elements  are  far  fiercer  in  their 
workings  in  the  upper  than  in  the  nether  regions  of  the 
earth,  the  motives  of  Pierre’s  concern  will  be  better  under¬ 
stood  by  the  reader  than  they  probably  were  by  himself, 
though  the  honest  guide  had  a  long  and  severe  experience 
to  supply  the  place  of  theory. 

Men  are  rarely  loquacious  in  danger.  The  timid  recoil 
into  themselves,  yielding  most  of  their  faculties  to  a  tor¬ 
menting  imagination,  that  augments  the  causes  of  alarm 
and  diminishes  the  means  of  security,  while  the  firm  of 
mind  rally  and  condense  their  powers  to  the  point  neces¬ 
sary  to  exertion.  Such  were  the  effects  in  the  present 
instance  on  those  who  followed  Pierre.  A  general  and 
deep  silence  pervaded  the  party,  each  one  seeing  their 
situation  in  the  colors  most  suited  to  his  particular  habits 
and  character.  The  men,  without  an  exception,  were 
grave  and  earnest  in  their  efforts  to  force  the  mules  for¬ 
ward  ;  Adelheid  became  pale,  but  she  preserved  her 
calmness  by  the  sheer  force  of  character ;  Christine  was 
trembling  and  dependent,  though  cheered  by  the  presence 
of,  and  her  confidence  in,  Sigismund ;  while  the  attendants 
of  the  heiress  of  Willading  covered  their  heads,  and 
followed  their  mistress  with  the  blind  faith  in  their 
superiors  that  is  apt  to  sustain  people  of  their  class  in 
serious  energencies. 

'  Ten  minutes  sufficed  entirely  to  change  the  aspect  of 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


31B 


the  view.  The  frozen  element  could  not  adhere  to  the 
iron-like  and  perpendicular  faces  of  the  mountains,  but  the 
glens  and  ravines  and  valleys  became  as  white  as  the 
peak  of  Velan.  Still  Pierre  continued  his  silent  and  up¬ 
ward  march,  in  a  way  to  keep  alive  a  species  of  trembling 
hope  among  those  who  depended  so  helplessly  upon  his 
intelligence  and  faith.  They  wished  to  believe  that  the 
snow  was  merely  one  of  those  common  occurrences  that 
were  to  be  expected  on  the  summits  of  the  Alps  at  this 
late  season  of  the  year,  and  which  were  no  more  than  so 
many  symptoms  of  the  known  rigor  of  the  approaching 
winter.  The  guide  himself  was  evidently  disposed  to  lose 
no  time  in  explanation,  and  as  the  secret  excitement  stole 
over  all  his  followers,  he  no  longer  had  cause  to  complain 
of  the  tardiness  of  their  movements.  Sigismund  kept 
near  his  sister  and  Adelheid,  having  a  care  that  their 
mules  did  not  lag,  while  the  other  males  performed  the 
same  necessary  office  for  the  beasts  ridden  by  the  female 
domestics.  In  this  manner  passed  the  few  sombre  minutes 
which  immediately  preceded  the  disappearance  of  day. 
The  heavens  were  no  longer  visible.  In  that  direction 
the  eye  saw  only  an  endless  succession  of  falling  flakes, 
and  it  was  getting  to  be  difficult  to  distinguish  even  the 
ramparts  of  rock  that  bounded  the  irregular  ravine  in 
which  they  rode.  They  were  known  to  be,  however,  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  path,  which  indeed  occasionally 
brushed  their  sides.  At  other  moments  they  crossed 
rude,  stony,  mountain  heaths,  if  such  a  word  can  be 
applied  to  spots  without  the  symbol  or  hope  of  vegetation. 
The  traces  of  the  beasts  that  had  preceded  them  became 
less  and  less  apparent,  though  the  trickling  stream  that 
came  down  from  the  glaciers,  and  along  which  they  had 
now  journeyed  for  hours,  was  occasionally  seen,  as  it  was 
crossed  in  pursuing  their  winding  way.  Pierre,  though 
still  confident  that  he  held  the  true  direction,  alone  knew 
that  this  guide  was  not  long  to  be  relied  on  ;  for,  as  they 
drew  nearer  to  the  top  of  the  mountains,  the  torrent 
gradually  lessened  both  in  its  force  and  in  the  volume  of 
its  water,  separating  into  twenty  small  rills,  which  came 


314 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


rippling  from  the  vast  bodies  of  snow  that  lay  among  the 
different  peaks  above. 

As  yet  there  had  been  no  wind.  The  guide,  as  minute 
after  minute  passed  without  bringing  any  change  in  this 
respect,  ventured  at  last  to  advert  to  the  fact,  cheering  his 
companions  by  giving  them  reason  to  hope  that  they 
should  yet  reach  the  convent  without  any  serious  calamity. 
As  if  in  mockery  of  this  opinion,  the  flakes  of  snow  began 
to  whirl  in  the  air  while  the  words  were  on  his  lips,  and 
a  blast  came  through  the  ravine,  that  set  the  protection 
of  cloaks  and  mantles  at  defiance.  Notwithstanding  his 
resolution  and  experience,  the  stout-hearted  Pierre  suffered 
an  exclamation  of  despair  to  escape  him,  and  he  instantly 
stopped,  in  the  manner  of  a  man  who  could  no  longer 
conceal  the  dread  that  had  been  collecting  in  his  bosom 
for  the  last  interminable  and  weary  hour.  Sigismund,  as 
well  as  most  of  the  men  of  the  party,  had  dismounted  a 
little  previously,  with  a  view  to  excite  warmth  by  exercise. 
The  youth  had  often  traversed  the  mountains,  and  the 
cry  no  sooner  reached  his  ear,  than  he  was  at  the  side  of 
him  who  uttered  it. 

“  At  what  distance  are  we  still  from  the  convent  ?  ”  he 
demanded,  eagerly. 

“  There  is  more  than  a  league  of  steep  and  stony  path  to 
mount,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,”  returned  the  disconsolate 
Pierre,  in  a  tone  that  perhaps  said  more  than  his  words. 

“  This  is  not  a  moment  for  indecision.  Remember  that 
thou  art  not  the  leader  of  a  party  of  carriers  with  their 
beasts  of  burden,  but  that  there  are  those  with  us  who  are 
unused  to  exposure,  and  are  feeble  of  body.  What  is  the 
distance  from  the  last  hamlet  we  passed  ?  ” 

*(  Double  that  to  the  convent !  ” 

Sigismund  turned,  and  with  the  eye  he  made  a  silent 
appeal  to  the  two  old  nobles,  as  if  to  ask  for  advice  or 
orders. 

“  It  might  indeed  be  better  to  return,”  observed  the  Sig¬ 
nor  Grimaldi,  in  the  way  one  utters  a  half-formed  resolu¬ 
tion.  “  This  wind  is  getting  to  be  piercingly  cutting,  and 
the  night  is  hard  upon  us.  What  thinkest  thou,  Melchior? 


THE  HEADSMAN.  315 

for,  with  Monsieur  Sigismund,  I  am  of  opinion  that  there  is 
little  time  to  lose.” 

“  Signore,  your  pardon,”  hastily  interrupted  the  ’guide. 
4‘  I  would  not  undertake  to  cross  the  plain  of  the  Yelan  an 
hour  later,  for  all  the  treasures  of  Einsiedeln  and  Loretto  ! 
The  wind  will  have  an  infernal  sweep  in  that  basin,  which 
will  soon  be  boiling  like  a  pot,  while  here  we  shall  get, 
from  time  to  time,  the  shelter  of  the  rocks.  The  slightest 
mishap  on  the  open  ground  might  lead  us  astray  a  league 
or  more,  and  it  would  need  an  hour  to  regain  the  course. 
The  beasts  too  mount  faster  than  they  descend,  and  with  far 
more  surety  in  the  dark  ;  and  even  when  at  the  village 
there  is  nothing  fit  for  nobles,  while  the  brave  monks  have 
all  that  a  king  can  need.” 

“  Those  who  escape  from  these  wild  rocks  need  not  be 
critical  about  their  fare,  honest  Pierre,  when  fairly  housed. 
Wilt  thou  answer  for  our  arrival  at  the  convent  unharmed, 
and  in  reasonable  time  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  we  are  in  the  hands  of  God.  The  pious  Au- 
gustines,  I  make  no  doubt,  are  praying  for  all  who  are  on 
the  mountain  at  this  moment ;  but  there  is  not  a  minute  to 
lose.  I  ask  no  more  than  that  none  lose  sight  of  their 
companions,  and  that  each  exert  his  force  to  the  utmost. 
We  are  not  far  from  the  House  of  Refuge,  and  should  the 
storm  increase  to  a  tempest,  as,  to  conceal  the  danger  no 
longer,  well  may  happen  in  this  late  month,  we  will  seek 
its  shelter  for  a  few  hours.” 

This  intelligence  was  happily  communicated,  for  the  cer¬ 
tainty  that  there  was  a  place  of  safety  within  an  attainable 
distance,  had  some  such  cheering  effect  on  the  travellers  as 
is  produced  on  the  mariner  who  finds  that  the  hazards  of 
the  gale  are  lessened  by  the  accidental  position  of  a  secure 
harbor  under  his  lee.  Repeating  his  admonitions  for  the 
party  to  keep  as  close  together  as  possible,  and  advising  all 
who  felt  the  sinister  effects  of  the  cold  on  their  limbs  to  dis¬ 
mount,  and  to  endeavor  to  restore  the  circulation  by  exer¬ 
cise,  Pierre  resumed  his  route. 

But  even  the  time  consumed  in  this  short  conference  had 
sensibly  altered  the  condition  of  things  for  the  worse.  The 


316 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


wind,  which  had  no  fixed  direction,  being  a  furious  current 
of  the  upper  air  diverted  from  its  true  course  by  encounter¬ 
ing  the  ragged  peaks  and  ravines  of  the  Alps,  was  now 
whirling  around  them  in  eddies,  now  aiding  their  ascent  by 
seeming  to  push  against  their  backs,  and  then  returning  in 
their  faces  with  a  violence  that  actually  rendered  advance 
impossible.  The  temperature  fell  rapidly  several  degrees, 
and  the  most  vigorous  of  the  party  began  to  perceive  the 
benumbing  influence  of  the  chillino;  currents,  at  their  lower 
extremities  especially,  in  a  manner  to  excite  serious  alarm. 
Every  precaution  was  used  to  protect  the  females  that 
tenderness  could  suggest ;  but  though  Adelheid,  who  alone 
retained  sufficient  self-command  to  give  an  account  of  her 
feelings,  diminished  the  danger  of  their  situation  with  the 
wish  not  to  alarm  any  of  their  companions  uselessly,  she 
could  not  conceal  from  herself  the  horrible  truth  that  the 
vital  heat  was  escaping  from  her  own  body,  with  a  rapidity 
that  rendered  it  impossible  for  her  much  longer  to  retain 
the  use  of  her  faculties.  Conscious  of  her  own  mental 
superiority  over  that  of  all  her  female  companions,  a  supe¬ 
riority  which  in  such  moments  is  even  of  more  account 
than  bodily  force,  after  a  few  minutes  of  silent  endurance, 
she  checked  her  mule,  and  called  upon  Sigismund  to  exam¬ 
ine  the  condition  of  his  sister  and  her  maids,  neither  of 
whom  had  now  spoken  for  some  time. 

This  startling  request  was  made  at  a  moment  when  the 
storm  appeared  to  gather  new  force,  and  when  it  had  be¬ 
come  absolutely  impossible  to  distinguish  even  the  whitened 
earth  at  twenty  paces  from  the  spot  where  the  party  stood 
collected  in  a  shivering  group.  The  young  soldier  threw 
open  the  cloaks  and  mantles  in  which  Christine  was  envel¬ 
oped,  and  the  half-unconscious  girl  sank  on  his  shoulder, 
like  a  drowsy  infant  that  was  willing  to  seek  its  slumbers 
in  the  arms  of  one  it  loved. 

“  Christine  !  —  my  sister  !  —  my  poor,  my  much-abused, 
angelic  sister !  ”  murmured  Sigismund,  happily  for  his 
secret  in  a  voice  that  only  reached  the  ears  of  Adelheid. 
“  Awake  !  Christine ;  for  the  love  of  our  excellent  and 
affectionate  mother,  exert  thyself.  Awake  !  Christine,  in 
the  name  of  God,  awake  !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


317 


“  Awake,  dearest  Christine  !  ”  exclaimed  Adelheid,  throw¬ 
ing  herself  from  the  saddle,  and  folding  the  smiling  but 
benumbed  girl  to  her  bosom.  “  God  protect  me  from  the 
pang  of  feeling  that  thy  loss  should  be  owing  to  my  wish  to 
lead  thee  amid  these  cruel  and  inhospitable  rocks  !  Chris¬ 
tine,  if  thou  hast  love  or  pity  for  me,  awake  !  ” 

“  Look  to  the  maids  !  ”  hurriedly  said  Pierre,-  who  found 
that  he  was  fast  touching  on  one  of  those  mountain  catas- 
trophes,  of  which,  in  the  course  of  his  life,  he  had  been  tho 
witness  of  a  few  of  fearful  consequences.  “  Look  to  all  the 
females,  for  he  who  now  sleeps,  dies !  ” 

The  muleteers  soon  stripped  the  two  domestics  of  thei' 
outer  coverings,  and  it  was  immediately  proclaimed  tha1 
both  were  in  imminent  danger,  one  having  already  lost  al 
consciousness.  A  timely  application  of  the  flask  of  Pierre 
and  the  efforts  of  the  muleteers,  succeeded  so  far  in  restor 
ing  life  as  to  remove  the  grounds  of  immediate  apprehen 
sion  ;  though  it  was  apparent  to  the  least  instructed  o'- 
them  all,  that  half  an  hour  more  of  exposure  would  prob 
ably  complete  the  fatal  work  that  had  so  actively  an 
vigorously  commenced.  To  add  to  the  horror  of  his  coi 
viction,  each  member  of  the  party,  not  excepting  tl 
muleteers,  was  painfully  conscious  of  the  escape  of  th 
vital  warmth  whose  total  flight  was  death. 

In  this  strait  all  dismounted.  They  felt  that  the  occasb 
was  one  of  extreme  jeopardy,  that  nothing  could  save  th(  w 
but  resolution,  and  that  every  minute  of  time  was  getting  Y> 
be  of  the  last  importance.  Each  female,  Adelheid  included, 
was  placed  between  two  of  the  other  sex,  and,  supported  in 
tins  manner,  Pierre  called  loudly  and  in  a  manful  voice  lor 
the  whole  to  proceed.  The  beasts  were  driven  after  them 
by  one  of  the  muleteers.  The  progress  of  travellers,  feeble 
as  Adelheid  and  her  companions,  on  a  stony  path  of  vcry 
uneven  surface,  and  of  a  steep  ascent,  the  snow  covering 
the  feet,  and  the  tempest  cutting  their  faces,  was  necessarily 
slow,  and  to  the  last  degree  toilsome.  Still,  the  exertion 
increased  the  quickness  of  the  blood,  and,  for  a  short  tiraey 
there  was  an  appearance  of  recalling  those  who  most  suf¬ 
fered  to  life.  Pierre,  who  still  kept  his  post  with  tin. 


318 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


hardihood  of  a  mountaineer  and  the  fidelity  of  a  Swiss, 
cheered  them  on  with  his 'voice,  continuing  to  raise  the  hope 
that  the  place  of  refuge  was  at  hand. 

At  this  instant,  when  exertion  was  most  needed,  and 
when,  apparently,  all  were  sensible  of  its  importance  and 
most  disposed  to  make  it,  the  muleteer  charged  with  the 
duty  of  urging  on  the  line  of  beasts  deserted  his  trust,  pre¬ 
ferring  to  take  his  chance  of  regaining  the  village  by  de¬ 
scending  the  mountain,  to  struggle  uselessly,  and  at  a  pace 
so  slow,  to  reach  the  convent.  The  man  was  a  stranger 
in  the  country,  who  had  been  adventitiously  employed  for 
this  expedition,  and  was  unconnected  with  Pierre  by  any 
of  those  ties  which  are  the  best  pledges  of  unconquerable 
faith,  when  the  interests  of  self  press  hard  upon  our  weak¬ 
nesses.  The  wearied  beasts,  no  longer  driven,  and  indis¬ 
posed  to  toil,  first  stopped,  then  turned  aside  to  avoid  the 
cutting  air  and  the  ascent,  and  were  soon  wandering  from 
the  path  it  was  so  vitally  necessary  to  keep. 

As  soon  as  Pierre  was  informed  of  the  circumstance,  he 
eagerly  issued  an  order  to  collect  the  stragglers  without 
delay,  and  at  every  hazard.  Benumbed,  bewildered,  and 
unable  to  see  beyond  a  few  yards,  this  embarrassing  duty 
was  not  easily  performed.  One  after  another  of  the  party 
joined  in  the  pursuit,  for  all  the  effects  of  the  travellers 
were  on  the  beasts ;  and  after  some  ten  minutes  of  delay, 
blended  with  an  excitement  which  helped  to  quicken  the 
blood  and  awaken  the  faculties  of  even  the  females,  the 
mules  were  all  happily  regained.  They  were  secured  to 
each  other  head  and  tail,  in  the  manner  so  usual  in  the 
droves  of  these  animals,  and  Pierre  turned  to  resume  the 
order  of  the  march.  But  on  seeking  the  path,  it  was  not 
to  be  found  !  Search  was  made  on  every  side,  and  yet 
none  could  meet  with  the  smallest  of  its  traces.  Broken, 
rough  fragments  of  rock,  were  all  that  rewarded  the  most 
anxious  investigation  ;  and  after  a  few  precious  minutes 
uselessly  wasted,  they  all  assembled  around  the  guide,  as 
if  by  common  consent,  to  seek  his  counsel.  The  truth 
was  no  longer  to  be  concealed  —  the  party  was  lost. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


319 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Let  no  presuming  railer  tax 

Creative  wisdom,  as  if  aught  was  formed 

In  vain,  or  not  for  admirable  ends. 

Thomson. 

So  long  as  we  possess  the  power  to  struggle,  hope  is 
the  last  feeling  to  desert  the  human  mind.  Men  are  en* 
dowed  with  every  gradation  of  courage,  from  the  calm 
energy  of  reflection,  which  is  rendered  still  more  effective 
by  physical  firmness,  to  the  headlong  precipitation  of  reck¬ 
less  spirit ;  from  the  resolution  that  grows  more  imposing 
and  more  respectable,  as  there  is  greater  occasion  for  its 
exercise,  to  the  fearful  and  ill-directed  energies  of  despair. 
But  no  description  with  the  pen  can  give  the  reader  a 
just  idea  of  the  chill  that  comes  over  the  heart  when 
accidental  causes  rob  us,  suddenly  and  without  notice,  of 
those  resources  on  which  we  have  been  habitually  accus¬ 
tomed  to  rely.  The  mariner,  without  his  course  or  com¬ 
pass,  loses  his  audacity  and  coolness,  though  the  momentary 
danger  be  the  same  ;  the  soldier  will  fly,  if  you  deprive  him 
of  his  arms ;  and  the  hunter  of  our  own  forests,  who  has 
lost  his  landmarks,  is  transformed  from  the  bold  and  deter¬ 
mined  foe  of  its  tenants,  into  an  anxious  and  dependent 
fugitive,  timidly  seeking  the  means  of  retreat.  In  short, 
the  customary  associations  of  the  mind  being  rudely  and 
suddenly  destroyed,  we  are  made  to  feel  that  reason,  while 
it  elevates  us  so  far  above  the  brutes  as  to  make  man  their 
lord  and  governor,  becomes  a  quality  less  valuable  than 
instinct,  when  the  connecting  link  in  its  train  of  causes  and 
effects  is  severed. 

It  was  no  more  than  a  natural  consequence  of  his 
greater  experience,  that  Pierre  Dumont  understood  the 
horrors  of  their  present  situation  far  better  than  any  with 


820 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


him.  It  is  true,  there  yet  remained  enough  light  to 
enable  him  to  pick  his  way  over  the  rocks  and  stones,  but 
he  had  sufficient  experience  to  understand  that  there  was 
less  risk  in  remaining  stationary  than  in  moving ;  for, 
while  there  was  only  one  direction  that  led  towards  the 
Refuge,  all  the  rest  would  conduct  them  to  a  greater  dis¬ 
tance  from  the  shelter,  which  was  now  the  only  hope.  On 
the  other  hand,  a  very  few  minutes  of  the  intense  cold,  and 
of  the  searching  wind  to  which  they  were  exposed,  would 
most  probably  freeze  the  currents  of  life  in  the  feebler  of 
those  intrusted  to  his  care. 

“  Hast  thou  aught  to  advise  ?  ”  asked  Melchior  de 
Willading,  folding  Adelheid  to  his  bosom  beneath  his 
ample  cloak,  and  communicating,  with  a  father’s  love,  a 
small  portion  of  the  meagre  warmth  that  still  remained  in 
his  own  aged  frame  to  that  of  his  drooping  daughter ; 
“  canst  thou  bethink  thee  of  nothing  that  may  be  done  in 
this  awful  strait  ?.” 

“  If  the  good  monks  have  been  active  ”  —  returned  the 
wavering  Pierre.  “  I  fear  me  that  the  dogs  have  not  yet 
been  exercised  on  the  paths  this  season !  ” 

“  Has  it  then  come  to  this  !  Are  our  lives  indeed  de¬ 
pendent  on  the  uncertain  sagacity  of  brutes  !  ” 

“  Mein  Herr,  I  would  bless  the  Virgin,  and  her  holy 
Son,  if  it  were  so  !  But  I  fear  this  storm  has  been  so 
sudden  and  unexpected,  that  we  may  not  even  hope  for 
their  succor.” 

Melchior  groaned.  He  folded  his  child  still  nearer  to  his 
heart,  while  the  athletic  Sigismund  shielded  his  drooping 
sister,  as  the  fowl  shelters  its  young  beneath  the  wing. 

“  Delay  is  death,”  rejoined  the  Signor  Grimaldi.  “  I 
have  heard  of  muleteers  that  have  been  driven  to  kill 
their  beasts,  that  shelter  and  warmth  might  be  found  in 
their  entrails.” 

“  The  alternative  is  horrible  !  ”  interrupted  Sigismund. 
“  Is  return  impossible  ?  By  always  descending,  we  must, 
in  time,  reach  the  village  below.” 

“  That  time  would  be  fatal,”  answered  Pierre.  “  I 
know  of  only  one  resource  that  remains.  If  the  party 


THE  HEADSMAN.  321 

will  keep  together,  and  answer  my  shouts,  I  will  make 
another  effort  to  find  the  path.” 

This  proposal  was  gladly  accepted,  for  energy  and  hope 
go  hand  in  hand,  and  the  guide  was  about  to  quit  the 
group,  when  he  felt  the  strong  grasp  of  Sigismund  on 
his  arm. 

“  I  will  be  thy  companion,”  said  the  soldier  firmly. 

u  Thou  hast  not  done  me  justice,  young  man,”  answered 
Pierre,  with  severe  reproach  in  his  manner.  “  Had  I  been 
base  enough  to  desert  my  trust,  these  limbs  and  this 
strength  are  yet  sufficient  to  carry  me  safely  down  the 
mountain ;  but  though  a  guide  of  the  Alps  may  freeze  like 
another  man,  the  last  throb  of  his  heart  will  be  in  behalf 
of  those  he  serves.” 

“  A  thousand  pardons,  brave  old  man  —  a  thousand 
pardons  ;  still  will  I  be  thy  companion.  The  search  that 
is  conducted  by  two  will  be  more  likely  to  succeed  than 
that  on  which  thou  goest  alone.” 

The  offended  Pierre,  who  liked  the  spirit  of  the  youth 
as  much  as  he  disliked  his  previous  suspicions,  met  the 
apology  frankly.  He  extended  his  hand  and  forgot  the 
feelings  that,  even  amid  the  tempests  of  those  wild  moun¬ 
tains,  were  excited  by  a  distrust  of  his  honesty.  After  this 
short  concession  to  the  ever-burning  though  smothered 
volcano  of  human  passion,  they  left  the  group  together, 
in  order  to  make  a  last  search  for  their  course. 

The  snow  by  this  time  was  many  inches  deep,  and  as 
the  road  was  at  best  but  a  faint  bridle-path  that  could 
scarcely  be  distinguished  by  daylight  from  the  debris  which 
strewed  the  ravines,  the  undertaking  would  have  been 
utterly  hopeless,  had  not  Pierre  known  that  there  was  the 
chance  of  still  meeting  with  some  signs  of  the  many  mules 
that  daily  went  up  and  down  the  mountain.  The  guide 
called  to  the  muleteers,  who  answered  his  cries  every 
minute  ;  for  so  long  as  they  kept  within  the  sound  of 
each  other’s  voices,  there  was  no  danger  of  their  becoming 
entirely  separated.  But,  amid  the  hollow  roaring  of  the 
wind,  and  the  incessant  pelting  of  the  storm,  it  was  neither 

safe  nor  practicable  to  venture  far  asunder.  Several  little 
21 


822 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


stony  knolls  were  ascended  and  descended,  and  a  rippling 
rill  was  found,  but  without  bringing  with  it  any  traces  of 
the  path.  The  heart  of  Pierre  began  to  chill  with  the 
decreasing  warmth  of  his  body,  and  the  firm  old  man, 
overwhelmed  with  his  responsibility,  while  his  truant 
thoughts  would  unbidden  recur  to  those  whom  he  had  left 
in  his  cottage  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  gave  way  at 
last  to  his  emotions  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief,  wringing  his 
hands,  weeping  and  calling  loudly  on  God  for  succor. 
This  fearful  evidence  of  their  extremity  worked  upon  the 
feelings  of  Sigismund  until  they  were  wrought  up  nearly 
to  frenzy.  His  great  physical  force  still  sustained 
him,  and  in  an  access  of  energy  that  was  fearfully  allied 
to  madness,  he  rushed  forward  into  the  vortex  of  snow 
and  hail,  as  if  determined  to  leave  all  to  the  Providence 
of  God,  disappearing  from  the  eyes  of  his  companion. 
This  incident  recalled  the  guide  to  his  senses.  He  called 
earnestly  on  the  thoughtless  youth  to  return.  No  answer 
was  given,  and  Pierre  hastened  back  to  the  motionless 
and  shivering  party,  in  order  to  unite  all  their  voices  in  a 
last  effort  to  be  heard.  Cry  upon  cry  was  raised,  but 
each  shout  was  answered  merely  by  the  hoarse  rushing 
of  the  winds. 

“  Sigismund  !  Sigismund  !  ”  called  one  after  another,  in 
hurried  and  alarmed  succession. 

“  The  noble  boy  will  be  irretrievably  lost !  ”  exclaimed 
the  Signor  Grimaldi  in  despair,  the  services  already  rendered 
by  the  youth,  together  with  his  manly  qualities,  having 
insensibly  and  closely  wound  themselves  around  his  heart. 
“  He  will  die  a  miserable  death,  and  without  the  consolation 
of  meeting  his  fate  in  communion  with  his  fellow-suf¬ 
ferers  !  ” 

A  shout  from  Sigismund  came  whirling  past,  as  if  the 
sound  were  embodied  in  the  sale. 

“  Blessed  Ruler  of  the  Earth,  this  is  alone  thy  mercy  !  ” 
exclaimed  Melchior  de  Willading ;  “  he  has  found  the 
path  !  ” 

u  And  honor  to  thee,  Maria,  thou  mother  of  God !  ” 
murmured  the  Italian. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


823 


At  that  moment,  a  dog  came  leaping  and  barking  through 
the  snow.  It  immediately  was  scenting  and  whining  among 
the  frozen  travellers.  The  exclamations  pf  joy  and  surprise 
were  scarcely  uttered  before  Sigismund,  accompanied  by 
another,  joined  the  party. 

“  Honor  and  thanks  to  the  good  Augustines !  ”  cried  the 
delighted  guide  ;  “  this  is  the  third  good  office  of  the  kind 
for  which  I  am  their  debtor!” 

“  I  would  it  were  true,  honest  Pierre,”  answered  the 
stranger.  “  But  Maso  and  Nettuno  are  poor  substitutes  in 
a  tempest  like  this,  for  the  servants  and  beasts  of  St.  Ber¬ 
nard.  I  am  a  wanderer,  and  lost  like  yourselves,  and  my 
presence  brings  little  other  relief  than  that  which  is  known 
to  be  the  fruit  of  companionship  in  misery.  The  saints  have 
brought  me  a  second  time  into  your  company  when  matters 
were  hanging  between  life  and  death  !  ” 

Maso  made  this  last  remark  when,  by  drawing  nearer  the 
group,  he  had  been  able  to  ascertain,  by  the  remains  of  the 
light,  of  whom  the  party  was  composed. 

“  If  it  is  to  be  as  useful  now  as  thou  hast  already  been,” 
answered  the  Genoese,  “  it  will  be  happier  for  us  all,  thy¬ 
self  included.  Bethink  thee  quickly  of  thy  expedients,  and 
I  will  make  thee  an  equal  sharer  of  all  that  a  generous 
Providence  hath  bestowed.” 

II  Maledetto  rarely  listened  to  the  voice  of  the  Signor 
Grimaldi,  without  a  manner  of  interest  and  curiosity  which, 
as  already  mentioned,  had  more  than  once  struck  the  latter 
himself,  but  which  he  quite  naturally  attributed  to  the  cir¬ 
cumstance  of  his  person  being  known  to  one  who  had 
declared  himself  to  be  a  native  of  Genoa.  Even  at  this  ter¬ 
rible  moment,  the  same  manner  was  evident,  and  the  noble, 
thinking  it  a  favorable  symptom,  renewed  the  already  neg¬ 
lected  offer  of  fortune,  with  a  view  to  quicken  a  zeal  which 
he  reasonably  enough  supposed  would  be  most  likely  to  be 
awakened  by  the  hopes  of  a  substantial  reward. 

“Were  there  question  here,  illustrious  Signore,”  answered 
Maso,  “  of  steering  a  barge,  of  shortening  sail,  or  of  handling 
a  craft  of  any  rig  or  construction,  in  gale,  squall,  hurricane, 
or  a  calm  among  breakers,  my  skill  and  experience  might  be 


824 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


turned  to  good  account ;  but  setting  aside  the  difference 
in  our  strength  and  hardihood,  even  that  lily  which  is  in  so 
much  danger  of  being  nipped  by  the  frosts,  is  not  more 
helpless  than  I  am  myself  at  this  moment.  I  am  no  better 
than  yourselves,  Signori,  and,  though  a  better  mountaineer 
perhaps,  I  rely  on  the  favor  of  the  saints  to  be  succored,  or 
my  time  must  finish  among  the  snows  instead  of  in  the  surf 
of  a  sea-shore,  as,  until  now,  I  had  always  believed  would 
be  my  fate.” 

“  But  the  dog  —  thy  admirable  dog  !  ” 

“Ah,  eccellenza,  Nettuno  is  but  a  useless  beast,  here  ! 
God  has  given  him  a  thicker  mantle,  and  a  warmer  dress 
than  to  us  Christians,  but  even  this  advantage  will  soon 
prove  a  curse  to  my  poor  friend.  The  long  hair  he  carries 
will  quickly  be  covered  with  icicles,  and,  as  the  snow 
deepens,  it  will  retard  his  movements.  The  dogs  of  St. 
Bernard  are  smoother,  have  longer  limbs,  a  truer  scent, 
and  possess  the  advantage  of  being  trained  to  the  paths.” 

A  tremendous  shout  of  Sigismund’s  interrupted  Maso ; 
the  youth,  on  finding  that  the  accidental  meeting  with  the 
mariner  was  not  likely  to  lead  to  any  immediate  advantages, 
having  instantly,  accompanied  by  Pierre  and  one  of  his 
assistants,  renewed  the  search.  The  cry  was  echoed  from 
the  guide  and  the  muleteer,  and  then  all  three  were  seen 
flying  through  the  snow,  preceded  by  a  powerful  mastiff*. 
Nettuno,  who  had  been  crouching  with  his  bushy  tail  be¬ 
tween  his  legs,  barked,  seemed  to  arouse  with  renewed 
courage,  and  then  leaped  with  evident  joy  and  good-will 
upon  the  back  of  his  old  antagonist  Uberto. 

The  dog  of  St.  Bernard  was  alone.  But  his  air  and  all 
his  actions  were  those  of  an  animal  whose  consciousness 
was  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  permitted  by  the  limits 
nature  had  set  to  the  intelligence  of  a  brute.  He  ran  from 
one  to  another,  rubbed  his  glossy  and  solid  side  against  the 
limbs  of  all,  wagged  his  tail,  and  betrayed  the  usual  signs 
that  creatures  of  his  species  manifest,  when  their  instinct  is 
most  alive.  Luckily  he  had  a  good  interpreter  of  his  mean¬ 
ing  in  the  guide,  who,  knowing  the  habits,  and,  if  it  may  be 
so  expressed,  the  intentions  of  the  mastiff,  feeling  there  was 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


825 


not  a  moment  to  lose  if  they  would  still  preserve  the  feebler 
members  of  their  party,  begged  the  others  to  hasten  the 
necessary  dispositions  to  profit  by  this  happy  meeting.  The 
females  were  supported  as  before,  the  mules  fastened  to¬ 
gether,  and  Pierre,  placing  himself  in  front,  called  cheer¬ 
fully  to  the  dog,  encouraging  him  to  lead  the  way. 

“  Is  it  quite  prudent  to  confide  so  implicitly  to  the  guid¬ 
ance  of  this  brute  ?  ”  asked  the  Signor  Grimaldi  a  little 
doubtingly,  when  he  saw  the  arrangement  on  which,  by  the 
increasing  gloom  and  the  growing  intensity  of  the  cold,  it 
was  but  too  apparent,  even  to  one  as  little  accustomed  to 
the  mountains  as  himself,  that  the  lives  of  the  whole  party 
depended. 

“  Fear  not  to  trust  to  old  Uberto,  Signore,”  answered 
Pierre,  moving  onward  as  he  spoke,  for  to  think  of  further 
delay  was  out  of  the  question  ;  “  fear  nothing  for  the  faith 
or  the  knowledge  of  the  dog.  These  animals  are  trained 
by  the  servants  of  the  convent  to  know  and  keep  the  paths 
even  when  the  snows  lie  on  them  fathoms  deep.  God  has 
given  them  stout  hearts,  long  limbs,  and  short  hair,  ex¬ 
pressly,  as  it  has  often  seemed  to  me,  for  this  end ;  and 
nobly  do  they  use  the  gifts !  I  am  acquainted  with  all 
their  ways,  for  we  guides  commonly  learn  the  ravines  of  St. 
Bernard  by  first  serving  the  claviers  of  the  convent,  and 
many  a  day  have  I  gone  up  and  down  these  rocks  with  a 
couple  of  these  animals  in  training  for  this  very  purpose. 
The  father  and  mother  of  Uberto  were  my  favorite  com¬ 
panions,  and  their  son  will  hardly  play  an  old  friend  of  the 
family  false.” 

The  travellers  followed  their  leader  with  more  con¬ 
fidence,  though  blindly.  Uberto  appeared  to  perform  his 
duty  with  the  sobriety  and  steadiness  that  became  his 
years,  and  which,  indeed,  were  very  necessary  for  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed.  Instead  of 
bounding  ahead  and  becoming  lost  to  view,  as  most  prob¬ 
ably  would  have  happened  with  a  younger  animal,  the 
noble  and  half-reasoning  brute  maintained  a  pace  that  was 
suited  to  the  slow  march  of  those  who  supported  the 
females,  occasionally  stopping  to  look  back,  as  if  to  make 
sure  that  none  were  left. 


326 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  dogs  of  St.  Bernard  are,  or  it  might  perhaps  be 
better  to  say  were,  —  for  it  is  affirmed  that  the  ancient 
race  is  lost,  —  chosen  for  their  s.’ze,  their  limbs,  and  the 
shortness  of  their  coats,  as  has  just  been  stated  by  Pierre  ; 
the  former  being  necessary  to  convey  the  succor  with 
which  they  were  often  charged,  as  well  as  to  overcome  the 
difficulties  of  the  mountains,  and  the  two  latter  that  they 
might  the  better  wade  through,  and  resist  the  influence  of, 
the  snows.  Their  training  consisted  in  rendering  them 
familiar  with,  and  attached  to,  the  human  race ;  in  teach¬ 
ing  them  to  know  and  to  keep  the  paths  on  all  occasions, 
except  such  as  called  for  a  higher  exercise  of  their  instinct, 
and  to  discover  the  position  of  those  who  had  been  over¬ 
whelmed  by  the  avalanches,  and  to  assist  in  disinterring 
their  bodies.  In  all  these  duties  Uberto  had  been  so  long 
exercised,  that  he  was  universally  known  to  be  the  most 
sagacious  and  the  most  trusty  animal  on  the  mountain. 
Pierre  followed  his  steps  with  so  much  greater  reliance 
on  his  intelligence,  from  being  perfectly  acquainted  with 
the  character  of  the  dog.  When,  therefore,  he  saw  the 
mastiff  turn  at  right  angles  to  the  course  he  had  just  been 
taking,  the  guide,  on  reaching  the  spot,  imitated  his  exam¬ 
ple,  and,  first  removing  the  snow  to  make  sure  of  the  fact, 
he  joyfully  proclaimed  to  those  who  came  after  him  that 
the  lost  path  was  found.  This  intelligence  sounded  like  a 
reprieve  from  death,  though  the  mountaineers  well  knew 
that  more  than  an  hour  of  painful  and  increasing  toil  was 
still  necessary  to  reach  the  hospice.  The  chilled  blood  of 
the  tender  beings  who  were  fast  dropping  into  the  terrible 
sleep  which  is  the  forerunner  of  death  was  quickened  in 
their  veins,  however,  when  they  heard  the  shout  of  delight 
that  spontaneously  broke  from  all  their  male  companions, 
on  learning  the  glad  tidings. 

The  movement  was  now  faster,  though  embarrassed  and 
difficult  on  account  of  the  incessant  pelting  of  the  storm 
and  the  influence  of  the  biting  cold,  which  were  difficult  to 
be  withstood  by  even  the  strongest  of  the  party.  Sigis- 
mund  groaned  inwardly,  as  he  thought  of  Adelheid  and  his 
sister  being  exposed  to  a  tempest  which  shook  the  stout- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


327 


est  frame  and  the  most  manly  heart  among  them.  He  en¬ 
circled  the  latter  with  an  arm,  rather  carrying  than  leading 
her  along,  for  the  young  soldier  had  sufficient  knowledge 
of  the  localities  of  the  mountain  to  understand  that  they 
were  still  at  a  fearful  distance  from  the  Col,  and  that  the 
strength  of  Christine  was  absolutely  unequal  to  the  task  of 
reaching  it  unsupported. 

Occasionally  Pierre  spoke  to  the  dogs,  Nettuno  keeping 
close  to  the  side  of  Uberto  in  order  to  prevent  separation, 
since  the  path  was  no  longer  discernible  without  constant 
examination,  the  darkness  having  so  far  increased  as  to 
reduce  the  sight  to  very  narrow  limits.  Each  time  the 
name  of  the  latter  was  pronounced,  the  animal  would  stop, 
wag  his  tail,  or  give  some  other  sign  of  recognition,  as  if 
to  reassure  his  followers  of  his  intelligence  and  fidelity. 
After  one  of  these  short  halts,  old  Uberto  and  his  compan¬ 
ion  unexpectedly  refused  to  proceed.  The  guide,  the  two 
old  nobles,  and  at  length  the  whole  party,  were  around 
them,  and  no  cry  or  encouragement  of  the  mountaineers 
could  induce  the  dogs  to  quit  their  tracks. 

“  Are  we  again  lost  ?  ”  asked  the  Baron  de  Willading, 
pressing  Adelheid  closer  to  his  beating  heart,  nearly  ready 
to  submit  to  their  common  fate  in  despair.  “  Has  God  at 
length  forsaken  us  ?  —  my  daughter  —  my  beloved  child  !  ” 

This  touching  appeal  was  answered  by  a  howl  from 
Uberto,  who  leaped  madly  away  and  disappeared.  Net¬ 
tuno  followed,  barking  wildly  and  with  a  deep  throat. 
Pierre  did  not  hesitate  about  following,  and  Sigismund, 
believing  that  the  movement  of  the  guide  was  to  arrest  the 
flight  of  the  dogs,  was  quickly  on  his  heels.  Maso  moved 
with  greater  deliberation. 

“  Nettuno  is  not  apt  to  raise  that  bark  with  nothing  but 
hail  and  snow  and  wind  in  his  nostrils,”  said  the  calculat¬ 
ing  Italian.  “  We  are  either  near  another  party  of  travel¬ 
lers,  for  such  are  on  the  mountains  as  I  know  ”  — 

“  God  forbid  !  Art  sure  of  this  ?  ”  demanded  the  Signor 
Grimaldi,  observing  that  the  other  had  suddenly  checked 
himself. 

“  Sure  that  others  were ,  Signore,”  returned  the  mariner 


328 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


deliberately,  as  if  he  measured  well  the  meaning  of  each 
word.  “  Ah,  here  comes  the  trusty  beast,  and  Pierre,  and 
the  captain,  with  their  tidings,  be  they  good  or  be  they 
evil.” 

The  two  just  named  rejoined  their  friends  as  Maso 
ceased  speaking.  They  hurriedly  informed  the  shivering 
travellers  that  the  much-desired  Refuge  was  near,  and  that 
nothing  but  the  darkness  and  the  driving  snow  prevented 
it  from  being  seen. 

u  It  was  a  blessed  thought,  and  one  that  came  from  St. 
Augustine  himself,  which  led  the  holy  monks  to  raise  this 
shelter  !  ”  exclaimed  the  delighted  Pierre,  no  longer  con¬ 
sidering  it  necessary  to  conceal  the  extent  of  the  danger 
they  had  run.  “  I  would  not  answer  even  for  my  own 
power  to  reach  the  hospice  in  a  time  like  this.  You  are 
of  mother  church,  Signore,  being  of  Italy  ?  ” 

“  I  am  one  of  her  unworthy  children,”  returned  the 
Genoese. 

“  This  unmerited  favor  must  have  come  from  the  prayers 
of  St.  Augustine,  and  a  vow  I  made  to  send  a  fair  offering 
to  our  Lady  of  Einsiedeln  ;  for  never  before  have  I 
known  a  dog  of  St.  Bernard  lead  the  traveller  to  the 
Refuge !  Their  business  is  to  find  the  frozen,  and  to 
guide  the  traveller  along  the  paths  to  the  hospice.  Even 
Uberto  had  his  doubts,  as  you  saw,  but  the  vow  pre¬ 
vailed  ;  or,  I  know  not  —  it  might,  indeed,  have  been  the 
prayer.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  was  too  eager  to  get  Adelheid 
under  cover,  and,  in  good  sooth,  to  be  there  himself,  to 
waste  the  time  in  discussing  the  knotty  point  of  which  of 
two  means,  that  were  equally  orthodox,  had  been  the  most 
efficacious  in  bringing  about  their  rescue.  In  common 
with  the  others,  he  followed  the  pious  and  confiding  Pierre 
in  silence,  making  the  best  of  his  way  after  the  credulous 
guide.  The  latter  had  not  yet  seen  the  Refuge  himself, 
for  so  these  places  are  well  termed  on  the  Alpine  passes, 
but  the  formation  of  the  ground  had  satisfied  him  of  its 
proximity.  Once  reassured  as  to  his  precise  position,  all 
the  surrounding  localities  presented  themselves  to  his 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


329 


mind  with  the  familiarity  the  seaman  manifests  with  every 
cord  in  the  intricate  maze  of  his  rigging,  and  in  the  dark¬ 
est  night,  or,  to  produce  a  parallel  of  more  common  use, 
with  the  readiness  which  all  manifest  in  the  intricacies  of 
their  own  habitations.  The  broken  chain  of  association 
being  repaired  and  joined,  everything  became  clear  again  to 
his  apprehension,  and,  in  diverging  from  the  path  on  this 
occasion,  the  old  man  held  his  way  as  directly  towards  the 
spot  he  sought,  as  if  he  were  journeying  under  a  bright 
sun.  There  was  a  rough  but  short  descent,  a  similar  rise, 
and  the  long-desired  goal  was  reached. 

We  shall  not  stop  to  dwell  upon  the  emotions  with 
which  the  travellers  first  touched  this  place  of  compar¬ 
ative  security.  Humility,  and  dependence  on  the  provi¬ 
dence  of  God,  were  the  predominant  sensations  even  with 
the  rude  muleteers,  while  the  nearly  exhausted  females 
were  just  able  to  express  in  murmurs  their  fervent  gratitude 
to  the  omnipotent  power  that  had  permitted  its  agents  so 
unexpectedly  to  interpose  between  them  and  death.  The 
Refuge  was  not  seen  until  Pierre  laid  his  hand  on  the 
roof,  now  white  with  snow,  and  proclaimed  its  character 
with  a  loud,  warm,  and  devout  thanksgiving. 

“  Enter,  and  thank  God  !  ”  he  said.  “  Another  hope¬ 
less  half  hour  would  have  brought  down  from  his  pride 
the  stoutest  among  us  —  enter,  and  thank  God  !  ” 

As  is  the  fact  with  all  the  edifices  of  that  region,  the 
building  was  entirely  of  stone,  even  to  the  roof,  having 
the  form  of  those  vaulted  cellars  which  in  this  countrv  are 

V 

used  for  the  preservation  of  vegetables.  It  was  quite  free 
from  humidity,  however,  the  clearness  of  the  atmosphere 
and  the  entire  absence  of  soil  preventing  the  accumulation 
of  moisture,  and  it  offered  no  more  than  the  naked  protec¬ 
tion  of  its  walls  to  those  who  sought  its  cover.  But  shel¬ 
ter  on  such  a  night  was  everything,  and  this  it  effectually 
afforded.  The  place  had  only  one  outlet,  being  simply 
formed  of  four  walls  and  the  roof ;  but  it  was  sufficiently 
large  to  shelter  a  party  twice  as  numerous  as  that  which 
had  now  reached  it. 

The  transition  from  the  biting  cold  and  piercing  winds 


830 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  the  mountain  to  the  shelter  of  this  inartificial  build¬ 
ing,  was  so  great  as  to  produce  something  like  a  general  sen¬ 
sation  of  warmth.  The  advantage  gained  in  this  change 
of  feeling  was  judiciously  improved  by  the  application  of 
friction  and  of  restoratives  under  the  direction  of  Pierre. 
Uberto  carried  a  small  supply  of  the  latter  attached  to  his 
collar,  and  before  half  an  hour  had  passed,  Adelheid  and 
Christine  were  sleeping  sweetly,  side  by  side,  muffled  in 
plenty  of  spare  garments,  and  pillowed  on  the  saddles  and 
housings  of  the  mules.  The  brutes  were  brought  within 
the  Refuge,  and  as  no  party  mounted  the  St.  Bernard 
without  carrying  the  provender  necessary  for  its  beasts  of 
burden,  that  sterile  region  affording  none  of  its  owrn,  the 
very  fuel  being  transported  leagues  on  the  backs  of  mules, 
the  patient  and  hardy  animals,  too,  found  their  solace,  after 
the  fatigues  and  exposure  of  the  day.  The  presence  of 
so  many  living  bodies  in  lodgings  so  confined  aided  in 
producing  warmth,  and,  after  all  had  eaten  of  the  scanty 
fare  furnished  by  the  foresight  of  the  guide,  drowsiness 
came  over  the  whole  party. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


881 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Side  by  side, 

Within  they  lie,  a  mournful  company. 

Rogers. 

The  sleep  of  the  weary  is  sweet.  In  after-life,  Adel- 
heid,  when  dwelling  in  a  palace,  reposing  on  down,  and 
canopied  by  the  rich  stuffs  of  a  more  generous  climate, 
was  often  heard  to  say  that  she  had  never  taken  rest 
grateful  as  that  she  found  in  the  Refuge  of  St.  Bernard. 
So  easy,  natural,  and  refreshing  had  been  her  slumbers, 
unalloyed  even  by  those  dreams  of  precipices  and  ava¬ 
lanches  which  long  afterwards  haunted  her  slumbers, 
that  she  was  the  first  to  open  her  eyes  on  the  following 
morning,  awaking  like  an  infant  that  had  enjoyed  a  quiet 
and  healthful  repose.  Her  movements  aroused  Christine. 
They  threw  aside  the  cloaks  and  coats  that  covered  them, 
and  sat  gazing  about  the  place  in  the  confusion  that  the 
novelty  of  their  situation  would  be  likely  to  produce. 
All  the  rest  of  the  travellers  still  slumbered  ;  and,  arising 
without  noise,  they  passed  the  silent  and  insensible  sleep¬ 
ers,  the  quiet  mules  which  had  stretched  themselves  near 
the  entrance  of  the  place,  and  quitted  the  hut. 

Without,  the  scene  was  wintry ;  but,  as  is  usual  in  the 
Alps,  let  what  may  be  the  season,  its  features  of  grand 
and  imposing  sublimity  were  prominent.  The  day  was 
among  the  peaks  above  them,  while  the  shades  of  night 
still  lay  upon  the  valleys,  forming  a  landscape  like  that 
exquisite  and  poetical  picture  of  the  lower  world,  which 
Guido  has  given  in  the  celebrated  al-fresco  painting  of 
Aurora.  The  ravines  and  glens  were  covered  with  snow, 
but  the  sides  of  the  rugged  rocks  were  bare  in  their  eter¬ 
nal  hue  of  ferruginous  brown.  The  little  knoll  on  which 
the  Refuge  stood  was  also  nearly  naked,  the  wind  having 


332 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


driven  the  light  particles  of  the  snow  into  the  ravine  of 
the  path.  The  air  of  the  morning  is  keen  at  that  great 
height  even  in  midsummer,  and  the  shivering  girls  drew 
their  mantles  about  them,  though  they  breathed  the  clear, 
elastic,  inspiring  element  with  pleasure.  The  storm  was 
entirely  past,  and  the  pure,  sapphire-colored  sky  was  in 
lovely  contrast  with  the  shadows  beneath,  raising  their 
thoughts  naturally  to  that  heaven  which  shone  in  a  peace 
and  glory  so  much  in  harmony  with  the  ordinary  images 
we  shadow  forth  of  the  abode  of  the  blessed.  Adelheid 
pressed  the  hand  of  Christine,  and  they  knelt  together, 
bowing  their  heads  to  a  rock.  As  fervent,  pure,  and 
sincere  orisons  ascended  to  God,  from  these  pious  and  in¬ 
nocent  spirits,  as  it  belongs  to  poor  mortality  to  offer. 

This  general,  and  in  their  peculiar  situation  especial, 
duty  performed,  the  gentle  girls  felt  more  assured. 
Relieved  of  a  heavy  and  imperative  obligation,  they  ven¬ 
tured  to  look  about  them  with  greater  confidence 
Another  building,  similar  in  form  and  material  to  that  in 
which  their  companions  were  still  sleeping,  stood  on  the 
same  swell  of  rock,  and  their  first  inquiries  naturally  took 
that  direction.  The  entrance,  or  outlet  to  this  hut,  was 
an  orifice  that  resembled  a  window  rather  than  a  door. 
They  moved  cautiously  to  the  spot,  looking  into  the 
gloomy,  cavern-like  room,  as  timidly  as  the  hare  throws 
his  regards  about  him  before  he  ventures  from  his  cover. 
Four  human  forms  were  reposing  deep  in  the  vault,  with 
their  backs  sustained  against  the  walls.  They  slept  pro¬ 
foundly  too,  for  the  curious  but  startled  girls  gazed  at 
them  long,  and  retired  without  causing  them  to  awake. 

“We  have  not  been  alone  on  the  mountain  in  this  ter¬ 
rible  night,”  whispered  Adelheid,  gently  urging  the  trem¬ 
bling  Christine  away  from  the  spot ;  “  thou  seest  that  other 
travellers  have  been  taking  their  rest  near  us  ;  most  prob¬ 
ably  after  perils  and  fatigues  like  our  own.” 

Christine  drew  closer  to  the  side  of  her  more  experienced 
friend,  like  the  young  of  the  dove  hovering  near  the  mother- 
bird  when  first  venturing  from  the  nest,  and  they  returned 
to  the  Refuge  they  had  quitted,  for  the  cold  was  still  so  in- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


833 


tense  as  to  render  its  protection  grateful.  At  the  door  they 
were  met  by  Pierre,  the  vigilant  old  man  having  awakened 
as  soon  as  the  light  crossed  his  eyes. 

“  We  are  not  alone  here,”  said  Adelheid,  pointing  to  the 
other  stone-covered  roof ;  “  there  are  travellers  sleeping  in 
yonder  building,  too.” 

“  Their  sleep  will  be  long,  lady,”  answered  the  guide, 
shaking  his  head  solemnly.  “  With  two  of  them  it  has 
already  lasted  a  twelvemonth,  and  the  third  has  slept  where 
you  saw  him  since  the  fall  of  the  avalanche  in  the  last  days 
of  April.” 

Adelheid  recoiled  a  step,  for  his  meaning  was  too  plain  to 
be  misunderstood.  After  looking  at  her  gentle  companion, 
she  demanded  if  those  they  had  seen  were  in  truth  the 
bodies  of  travellers  who  had  perished  on  the  mountain. 

“  Of  no  other,  lady,”  returned  Pierre.  “  This  hut  is  for 
the  living  —  that  for  the  dead.  So  near  are  the  two  to  each 
other,  when  men  journey  on  these  wild  rocks  in  winter.  I 
have  known  him  who  passed  a  short  and  troubled  night 
here,  begin  a  sleep  in  the  other  before  the  turn  of  the  day 
that  is  not  only  deep  enough,  but  which  will  last  forever. 
One  of  the  three  that  thou  hast  just  seen  was  a  guide  like 
myself ;  he  was  buried  in  the  falling  snow  at  the  spot  where 
the  path  leaves  the  plain  of  Velan  below  us.  Another  is  a 
pilgrim  that  perished  in  as  clear  a  night  as  ever  shone  on 
St.  Bernard,  and  merely  for  having  taken  a  cup  too  much 
to  cheer  his  way.  The  third  is  a  poor  vine-dresser  that 
was  coming  from  Piedmont  into  our  Swiss  valleys  to  follow 
his  calling,  when  death  overtook  him  in  an  ill-advised  slum¬ 
ber,  in  which  he  was  so  unwise  as  to  indulge  at  nightfall. 
I  found  his  body  myself  on  that  naked  rock,  the  day  after 
we  had  drunk  together  in  friendship  at  Aoste,  and  with  my 
own  hands  was  he  placed  among  the  others.” 

“  And  such  is  the  burial  a  Christian  gets  in  this  inhos¬ 
pitable  country !  ” 

“What  would  you,  lady  !  —  ’tis  the  chance  of  the  poor 
and  the  unknown.  Those  that  have  friends  are  sought  and 
found  ;  but  those  that  die  without  leaving  traces  of  their 
origin,  fare  as  you  see.  The  spade  is  useless  among  these 


834 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


rocks  ;  and  then  it  is  better  that  the  body  should  remain 
where  it  may  be  seen  and  claimed,  than  that  it  should  be  put 
out  of  sight.  The  good  fathers,  and  all  of  note,  are  taken 
down  into  the  valleys,  where  there  is  earth,  and  are  decently 
buried ;  while  the  poor  and  the  stranger  are  housed  in  this 
vault,  which  is  a  better  cover  than  many  of  them  knew 
while  living.  Aye,  there  are  three  Christians  there,  who 
were  all  lately  walking  the  earth  in  the  flesh,  gay  and  active 
as  any.” 

u  The  bodies  are  four  in  number  !  ” 

Pierre  looked  surprised  ;  he  mused  a  little,  and  continued 
his  employment. 

“  Then  another  has  perished.  The  time  may  come  when 
my  own  blood  shall  freeze.  This  is  a  fate  the  guide  must 
ever  keep  in  mind,  for  he  is  exposed  to  it  at  an  hour  and  a 
season  that  he  knows  not !  ” 

Adelheid  pursued  the  subject  no  further.  She  remem¬ 
bered  to  have  heard  that  the  pure  atmosphere  of  the  moun¬ 
tain  prevented  that  offensive  decay  which  is  usually  associ¬ 
ated  with  the  idea  of  death,  and  the  usage  lost  some  of  its 
horror  in  the  recollection. 

In  the  mean  time  the  remainder  of  the  party  awoke,  and 
were  collecting  before  the  Refuge.  The  mules  were  led 
forth  and  saddled,  the  baggage  was  loaded,  and  Pierre  was 
calling  upon  the  travellers  to  mount,  when  Uberto  and  Net- 
tun  o  came  leaping  down  the  path  in  company,  running  side 
by  side  in  excellent  fellowship.  The  movements  of  the 
dogs  were  of  a  nature  to  attract  the  attention  of  Pierre  and 
the  muleteers,  who  predicted  that  they  should  soon  see  some 
of  the  servants  of  the  hospice.  The  result  showed  the  famil¬ 
iarity  of  the  guide  with  his  duty,  for  he  had  scarce  ventured 
this  opinion,  when  a  party  from  the  gorge  on  the  summit 
of  the  mountain  was  seen  wading  through  the  snow,  along 
the  path  that  led  towards  the  Refuge,  with  Father  Xavier 
at  its  head. 

The  explanations  were  brief  and  natural.  After  conduct¬ 
ing  the  travellers  to  the  shelter,  and  passing  most  of  the 
night  in  their  company,  at  the  approach  of  dawn  Uberto 
had  returned  to  the  convent,  always  attended  by  his  friend 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


385 


Nettuno.  Here  he  communicated  to  the  monks,  by  signs 
which  they  who  were  accustomed  to  the  habits  of  the  animal 
were  not  slow  in  interpreting,  that  travellers  were  on  the 
mountain.  The  good  clavier  knew  that  the  party  of  the 
Baron  de  Willading  was  about  to  cross  the  Col,  for  he  had 
hurried  home  to  be  in  readiness  to  receive  them ;  and  fore¬ 
seeing  the  probability  that  they  had  been  overtaken  by  the 
storm  of  the  previous  night,  he  was  foremost  in  joining  the 
servants  who  went  forth  to  their  succor.  The  little  flask 
of  cordial,  too,  had  been  removed  from  the  collar  of  Uberto, 
leaving  no  doubt  of  its  contents  having  been  used ;  and,  as 
nothing  was  more  probable  than  that  the  travellers  should 
seek  a  cover,  their  steps  were  directed  towards  the  Refuge 
as  a  matter  of  course. 

The  worthy  clavier  made  this  explanation  with  eyes  that 
glistened  with  moisture,  occasionally  interrupting  himself  to 
murmur  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving.  He  passed  from  one  of 
the  party  to  the  other,  not  even  neglecting  the  muleteers, 
examining  their  limbs,  and  more  especially  their  ears,  to  see 
that  they  had  quite  escaped  the  influence  of  the  frost,  and 
was  only  happy  when  assured  by  his  own  observation  that 
the  terrible  danger  they  had  run  was  not  likely  to  be  at¬ 
tended  by  any  injurious  consequences. 

“  We  are  accustomed  to  see  many  accidents  of  this  na¬ 
ture,”  he  said,  smilingly,  when  the  examination  was  satis¬ 
factorily  ended,  “  and  practice  has  made  us  quick  of  sight  in 
these  matters.  The  blessed  Maria  be  praised,  and  adoration 
to  her  holy  Son,  that  you  have  all  got  through  the  night  so 
well  !  There  is  a  warm  breakfast  in  readiness  in  the  con¬ 
vent  kitchen,  and,  one  solemn  duty  performed,  we  will  go  up 
the  rocks  to  enjoy  it.  The  little  building  near  us  is  the  last 
earthly  abode  of  those  who  perish  on  this  side  the  mountain, 
and  whose  remains  are  unclaimed.  None  of  our  canons 
pass  the  spot  without  offering  a  prayer  in  behalf  of  their 
souls.  Kneel  with  me,  then,  you  that  have  so  much  reason 
to  be  grateful  to  God,  and  join  in  the  petition.” 

Father  Xavier  knelt  on  the  rocks,  and  all  the  Catholics 
of  the  party  united  with  him  in  the  prayer  for  the  dead. 
The  Baron  de  Willading.  his  daughter,  and  their  attendants 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


33  o 


stood  uncovered  the  while,  for  though  their  Protestant 
opinions  rejected  such  a  mediation  as  useless,  they  deeply 
felt  the  solemnity  and  holy  character  of  the  sacrifice.  The 
clavier  arose  with  a  countenance  that  was  beaming  and 
bright  as  the  morning  sun,  which  just  at  that  moment  ap¬ 
peared  above  the  summits  of  the  Alps,  casting  its  genial  and 
bland  warmth  on  the  group,  the  brown  huts,  and  the  moun¬ 
tain-side. 

“  Thou  art  a  heretic,”  he  said  affectionately  to  Adelheid, 
in  whom  he  felt  the  interest,  to  which  her  youth  and  beauty, 
and  the  great  danger  they  had  so  lately  run  in  company, 
very  naturally  gave  birth.  “  Thou  art  an  impenitent  her¬ 
etic,  but  we  will  not  cast  thee  off ;  notwithstanding  thy  ob¬ 
stinacy  and  crimes,  thou  seest  that  the  saints  can  interest 
themselves  in  the  behalf  of  obstinate  sinners,  or  thou  and 
all  with  thee  would  have  surely  been  lost.” 

This  was  said  in  a  way  to  draw  a  smile  from  Adelheid, 
who  received  his  accusations  as  so  many  friendly  and  play¬ 
ful  reproaches.  As  a  token  of  peace  between  them,  she 
offered  her  hand  to  the  monk,  with  a  request  that  he  would 
aid  her  in  getting  into  the  saddle. 

“  Dost  thou  remark  the  brutes !  ”  said  the  Signor 
Grimaldi,  pointing  to  the  animals,  who  were  gravely 
seated  before  the  window  of  the  bone-house,  with  relaxed 
jaws,  keeping  their  eyes  riveted  on  its  entrance  or  window. 
“  Thy  St.  Bernard  dogs,  father,  seem  trained  to  serve  a 
Christian  in  all  ways,  whether  living  or  dead.” 

“  Their  quiet  attitude  and  decent  attention  might  in¬ 
deed  justify  such  a  remark  !  Didst  thou  ever  note  such 
conduct  in  Uberto  before  ?  ”  returned  the  Augustine,  ad¬ 
dressing  the  servants  of  the  convent,  for  the  actions  of  the 
animals  were  a  study  and  a  subject  of  great  interest  to  all 
of  St.  Bernard. 

“  They  tell  me  that  another  fresh  body  has  been  put 
into  the  house,  since  I  last  came  down  the  mountain,” 
remarked  Pierre,  who  was  quietly  disposing  of  a  mule 
in  a  manner  more  favorable  for  Adelheid  to  mount; 
“  the  mastiff  scents  the  dead.  It  was  this  that  brought 
him  to  the  Refuge  last  night,  Heaven  be  praised  for  the 
mercy  !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


337 


This  was  said  with  the  indifference  that  habit  is  apt  to 
create,  for  the  usage  of  leaving  bodies  uninterred  had  no 
influence  on  the  feelings  of  the  guide,  but  it  did  not  the  less 
strike  those  who  had  descended  from  the  convent. 

“  Thou  art  the  last  that  came  down  thyself,”  said  one  of 
the  servants ;  “  nor  have  any  come  up,  but  those  who  are 
now  safe  in  the  convent,  taking  their  rest  after  last  night’s 
tempest.” 

“  How  canst  utter  this  idle  nonsense,  Henri,  when  a  fresh 
body  is  in  the  house  !  This  lady  counted  them  but  now, 
and  there  are  four ;  three  was  the  number  that  I  showed 
the  Piedmontese  noble  whom  I  led  from  Aoste,  the  day 
thou  meanest.” 

“  Look  to  this  ;  ”  said  the  clavier,  turning  abruptly  away 
from  Adelheid,  whom  he  was  on  the  point  of  helping  into 
the  saddle. 

The  men  entered  the  gloomy  vault,  whence  they  soon  re¬ 
turned  bearing  a  body,  which  they  placed  with  its  back 
against  the  wall  of  the  building,  in  the  open  air.  A  cloak 
was  over  the  head  and  face,  as  if  the  garment  had  been  thus 
arranged  to  exclude  the  cold. 

“  He  hath  perished  the  past  night,  mistaking  the  bone- 
house  for  the  Refuge  !  ”  exclaimed  the  clavier ;  “  Maria  and 
her  Son  intercede  for  his  soul ! n 

“  Is  the  unfortunate  man  truly  dead  ?  ”  asked  the  Gen¬ 
oese  with  more  of  worldly  care,  and  with  greater  practice  in 
the  investigation  of  facts.  “  The  frozen  sleep  long  before 
the  currents  of  life  cease  entirely  to  run.” 

The  Augustine  commanded  his  followers  to  remove  the 
cloak,  though  with  little  hope  that  the  suggestion  of  the 
other  would  prove  true.  When  the  cloth  was  raised,  the 
collapsed  and  pallid  features  of  one  in  whom  life  was  un¬ 
equivocally  extinct  were  exposed  to  view.  Unlike  most  of 
those  that  perish  of  cold,  who  usually  sink  into  the  long 
sleep  of  eternity  by  a  gradual  numbness  and  a  slowly  in¬ 
creasing  unconsciousness,  there  was  an  expression  of  pain  in 
the  countenance  of  the  stranger  which  seemed  to  announce 
that  his  parting  struggles  had  been  severe,  and  that  he  had 

resigned  his  hold  of  that  mysterious  principle  which  con- 

22 


338 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


nects  the  soul  to  the  body,  with  anguish.  A  shriek  from 
Christine  interrupted  the  awful  gaze  of  the  travellers,  and 
drew  their  looks  in  another  direction.  She  was  clinging  to 
the  neck  of  Adelheid,  her  arms  appearing  to  writhe  with  the 
effort  to  incorporate  their  two  bodies  into  one. 

“  It  is  he  !  It  is  he  !  ”  muttered  the  frightened  and  half 
frantic  girl,  burying  her  pale  face  in  the  bosom  of  her  friend. 
“  Oh  !  God  !  —  it  is  he  !  ” 

“Of  whom  art  thou  speaking,  dear?”  demanded  the 
wondering,  but  not  the  less  awe-struck  Adelheid,  believ¬ 
ing  that  the  weakened  nerves  of  the  poor  girl  were  un¬ 
strung  by  the  horror  of  the  spectacle  ;  “  it  is  a  traveller 
like  ourselves,  that  has  unhappily  perished  -in  the  very 
storm  from  which,  by  the  kindness  of  Providence,  we  have 
been  permitted  to  escape.  Thou  shouldst  not  tremble  thus ; 
for  fearful  as  it  is,  he  is  in  a  condition  to  which  we  all 
must  come.” 

“So  soon  !  so  soon  !  so  suddenly  — oh  !  it  is  he  !” 

Adelheid,  alarmed  at  the  violence  of  Christine’s  feel¬ 
ings,  was  quite  at  a  loss  to  account  for  them,  when  the  re¬ 
laxed  grasp  and  the  dying  voice  showed  that  her  friend 
had  fainted.  Sigismund  was  one  of  the  first  to  come  to 
the  assistance  of  his  sister,  who  was  soon  restored  to  con¬ 
sciousness  by  the  ordinary  applications.  In  order  to  effect 
the  cure  she  was  borne  to  a  rock  at  some  little  distance 
from  the  rest  of  the  party,  where  none  of  the  other  sex 
presumed  to  come,  with  the  exception  of  her  brother. 
The  latter  stayed  but  a  moment,  for  a  stir  in  the  little 
party  at  the  bone-house  induced  him  to  go  thither.  His 
return  was  slow,  thoughtful,  and  sad. 

“  The  feelings  of  our  poor  Christine  have  been  unhinged, 
and  she  is  too  easily  excited  to  undergo  the  vicissitudes  of 
a  journey,”  observed  Adelheid,  after  having  announced  the 
restoration  of  the  sufferer  to  her  senses,  “  have  you  seen  her 
thus  before  ?  ” 

“No  angel  could  be  more  tranquil  and  happy  than  my 
cruelly  treated  sister  was  until  this  last  disgrace.  You 
appear  ignorant  yourself  of  the  melancholy  truth  ?  ” 

Adelheid  looked  her  surprise. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


839 


“  The  dead  man  is  he  who  was  so  lately  intended  to  be 
the  master  of  my  sister’s  happiness,  and  the  wounds  on  his 
body  leave  little  doubt  that  he  has  been  murdered.” 

The  emotion  of  Christine  needed  no  further  explana¬ 
tion. 

“  Murdered !  ”  repeated  Adelheid,  in  a  whisper. 

“  Of  that  frightful  truth  there  can  be  no  question.  Your 
father  and  our  friends  are  now  employed  in  making  the 
examinations  which  may  hereafter  be  useful  in  discovering 
the  authors  of  the  deed.” 

“  Sigismund  ?  ” 

“  What  wouldst  thou,  Adelheid  ?  ” 

“Thou  hast  felt  resentment  against  this  unfortunate 
man  ?  ” 

“  I  deny  it  not.  Could  a  brother  feel  otherwise  ?  ” 

“  But  now  —  now  that  God  hath  so  fearfully  visited 
him  ?  ” 

“From  my  soul  I  forgive  him.  Had  we  met  in  Italy, 
whither  I  knew  he  was  going  —  but  this  is  foolish.” 

“Worse  than  that,  Sigismund.” 

“  From  my  inmost  soul  I  pardon  him.  I  never  thought 
him  worthy  of  her  whose  simple  affections  were  won  by 
the  first  signs  of  his  pretended  interest ;  but  I  could  not 
wish  him  so  cruel  and  sudden  an  end.  May  God  have 
mercy  on  him,  as  he  is  pardoned  by  me.” 

Adelheid  received  the  silent  pressure  of  the  hand  which 
followed  with  pious  satisfaction.  They  then  separated  — 
he  to  join  the  group  that  was  collected  around  the  body, 
and  she  to  take  her  station  again  near  Christine.  The 
former,  however,  was  met  by  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  who 
urged  his  immediate  departure  with  the  females  to  the 
convent,  promising  that  the  rest  of  the  travellers  should 
follow  as  soon  as  the  present  melancholy  duty  was  ended. 
As  Sigismund  had  no  wish  to  be  a  party  in  what  was  go¬ 
ing  on,  and  there  was  reason  to  think  his  sister  would  be 
spared  much  pain  by  quitting  the  spot,  he  gladly  acquiesced 
in  the  proposal.  Immediate  steps  were  taken  for  its 
accomplishment. 

Christine  mounted  her  mule  in  obedience  to  her  brother’s 


340 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


desire,  quietly,  and  without  remonstrance  ;  but  her  death¬ 
like  countenance  and  fixed  eye  betrayed  the  violence  of 
the  shock  she  had  received.  During  the  whole  of  the 
ride  to  the  convent  she  spoke  not,  and,  as  those  around 
her  felt  for  and  understood  her  distress,  the  little  caval¬ 
cade  could  not  have  been  more  melancholy  and  silent  had 
it  borne  with  it  the  body  of  the  slain.  In  an  hour  they 
reached  the  long  sought  for  and  so  anxiously  desired  place 
of  rest. 

While  this  disposition  of  the  feebler  portion  of  the  party 
was  making,  a  different  scene  had  taken  place  near  what 
have  been  already  so  well  called  the  houses  of  the  living 
and  the  dead.  As  there  existed  no  human  habitation 
within  several  leagues  of  the  abode  of  the  Augustines  on 
either  side  of  the  mountain,  and  as  the  paths  were  much 
frequented  in  the  summer,  the  monks  exercised  a  species 
of  civil  jurisdiction  in  such  cases  as  required  a  prompt 
exercise  of  justice,  or  a  necessary  respect  for  those  forms 
that  might  be  important  in  its  administration  hereafter 
before  the  more  regular  authorities.  It  was  no  sooner 
known,  therefore,  that  there  was  reason  to  suspect  an  act 
of  violence  had  been  committed,  than  the  good  clavier 
set  seriously  about  taking  the  necessary  steps  to  authenti¬ 
cate  all  those  circumstances  that  could  be  accurately  ascer¬ 
tained. 

The  identity  of  the  body  as  that  of  Jacques  Colis,  a 
small  but  substantial  proprietor  of  the  country  of  Vaud, 
was  quickly  established.  To  this  fact  not  only  several  of 
the  travellers  could  testify,  but  he  was  also  known  to  one 
of  the  muleteers,  of  whom  he  had  engaged  a  beast  to  be 
left  at  Aoste,  and,  it  will  also  be  remembered,  he  had  been 
seen  by  Pierre  at  Martigny,  while  making  his  arrange¬ 
ments  to  pass  the  mountain.  Of  the  mule  there  were  no 
other  traces  than  a  few  natural  signs  around  the  building, 
but  which  might  equally  be  attributed  to  the  beasts  that 
still  awaited  the  leisure  of  the  travellers.  The  manner  in 
which  the  unhappy  man  had  come  by  his  death,  admitted 
of  no  dispute.  There  were  several  wounds  in  the  body, 
and  a  knife,  of  the  sort  then  much  used  by  travellers  of  an 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


341 


ordinary  class,  was  left  sticking  in  his  uack  in  a  position 
to  render  it  impossible  to  attribute  the  end  of  the  sufferer 
to  suicide.  The  clothes,  too,  exhibited  proofs  of  a  struggle ; 
for  they  were  torn  and  soiled,  but  nothing  had  been  taken 
away.  A  little  gold  was  found  in  the  pockets,  and  though 
in  no  great  plenty,  still  enough  to  weaken  the  first  impres¬ 
sion  that  there  had  also  been  a  robbery. 

“  This  is  wonderful !  ”  observed  the  good  clavier,  as 
he  noted  the  last  circumstance  ;  “  the  dross  which  leads 
so  many  souls  to  damnation  has  been  neglected,  while 
Christian  blood  has  been  shed  !  This  seems  an  act  of 
vengeance  rather  than  of  cupidity.  Let  us  now  examine 
if  any  proofs  are  to  be  found  of  the  scene  of  this 
tragedy.” 

The  search  was  unsuccessful.  The  whole  of  the  sur¬ 
rounding  region  being  composed  of  ferruginous  rocks  and 
their  debris ,  it  would  not,  indeed,  have  been  an  easy  mat¬ 
ter  to  trace  the  march  of  an  army  by  their  footsteps. 
The  stain  of  blood,  however,  was  nowhere  discoverable, 
except  on  the  spot  where  the  body  had  been  found.  The 
house  itself  furnished  no  particular  evidence  of  the  bloody 
scene  of  which  it  had  been  a  witness.  The  bones  of  those 
who  had  died  long  before,  were  lying  on  the  stones,  it  is 
true,  broken  and  scattered ;  but,  as  the  curious  were  wont 
to  stop,  and  sometimes  to  enter  among  and  handle  these 
remains  of  mortality,  there  was  nothing  new  or  peculiar 
in  their  present  condition. 

The  interior  of  the  dead-house  was  obscure,  and  suited 
in  this  particular,  at  least,  to  its  solemn  office.  While 
making  the  latter  part  of  their  examination,  the  monk 
and  the  two  nobles,  who  began  to  feel  a  lively  interest  in 
the  late  event,  stood  before  the  window,  gazing  in  at  the 
gloomy  but  instructive  scene.  One  body  was  so  placed  as 
to  receive  a  few  of  the  direct  rays  of  the  morning  light, 
and  it  was  consequently  much  more  conspicuous  than  the 
rest,  though  even  this  was  a  dark  and  withered  mummy 
that  presented  scarcely  a  vestige  of  the  being  it  had  been. 
Like  all  the  others  whose  parts  still  clung  together,  it  had 
been  placed  against  the  wall,  in  the  attitude  of  one  that  is 


U'2 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


seated,  with  the  head  fallen  forward.  The  latter  circum¬ 
stance  had  brought  the  blackened  and  shriveled  face  into 
the  line  of  light.  It  had  the  ghastly  grin  of  death,  the 
features  being  distorted  by  the  process  of  evaporation,  and 
was  altogether  a  revolting  but  salutary  monitor  of  the 
common  lot. 

“  ’Tis  the  body  of  the  poor  vine-dresser,”  remarked  the 
monk,  more  accustomed  to  the  spectacle  than  his  compan¬ 
ions,  who  had  shrunk  from  the  sight ;  “  he  unwisely  slept 
on  yonder  naked  rock,  and  it  proved  to  him  the  sleep  of 
death.  There  have  been  many  masses  for  his  soul,  but 
wliat  is  left  of  his  material  remains  still  lie  unreclaimed. 
But  —  how  is  this  !  Pierre,  thou  hast  lately  passed  this 
place ;  what  was  the  number  of  the  bodies,  at  thy  last  visit  ?  ” 

“  Three,  reverend  clavier  ;  and  yet  the  ladies  spoke  of 
four.  I  looked  for  the  fourth  when  in  the  building,  but 
there  appeared  none  fresh,  except  this  of  poor  Jacques 
Colis.” 

“  Come  hither,  and  say  if  there  do  not  appear  to  be  two 
in  the  far  corner  —  here,  where  the  body  of  thy  old  com¬ 
rade  the  guide  was  placed,  from  respect  for  his  calling  ; 
surely,  there  at  least  is  a  change  in  its  position  !  ” 

Pierre  approached,  and  taking  off  his  cap  in  reverence, 
he  leaned  forward  in  the  building,  so  as  to  exclude  the 
external  light  from  his  eyes. 

“  Father  !  ”  he  said,  drawing  back  in  surprise,  “  there  is 
truly  another  ;  though  I  overlooked  it  when  we  entered 
the  place.” 

“  This  must  be  examined  into  !  The  crime  may  be 
greater  than  we  had  believed  !  ” 

The  servants  of  the  convent  and  Pierre,  whose  long 
services  rendered  him  a  familiar  of  the  brotherhood,  now 
reentered  the  building,  while  those  without  impatiently 
awaited  the  result.  A  cry  from  the  interior  prepared  the 
latter  for  some  fresh  subject  of  horror,  when  Pierre  and 
his  companion  quickly  reappeared,  dragging  a  living  man 
into  the  open  air.  When  the  light  permitted,  those  who 
knew  him  recognized  the  mild  demeanor,  the  subdued 
look,  and  the  uneasy,  distrustful  glance  of  Balthazar. 


TIIE  HEADSMAN. 


348 


The  first  sensation  of  the  spectators  was  that  of  open 
amazement ;  but  dark  suspicion  followed.  The  baron,  the 
two  Genoese,  and  the  monk,  had  all  been  witnesses  of 
the  scene  in  the  great  square  of  Vevey.  The  person  of 
the  headsman  had  become  so  well  known  to  them  by  the 
passage  on  the  lake  and  the  event  just  alluded  to,  that  there 
was  not  a  moment  of  doubt  touching  his  identity,  and 
coupled  with  the  circumstances  of  that  morning,  there 
remained  little  more  that  the  clue  was  now  found  to  the 
cause  of  the  murder. 

We  shall  not  stop  to  relate  the  particulars  of  the  exami¬ 
nation.  It  was  short,  reserved,  and  had  the  character  of  an 
investigation  instituted  more  for  the  sake  of  form,  than  from 
any  incertitude  there  could  exist  on  the  subject  of  the  facts. 
When  the  necessary  inquiries  were  ended,  the  two  nobles 
mounted.  Father  Xavier  led  the  way,  and  the  whole  party 
proceeded  towards  the  summit  of  the  pass,  leading  Baltha¬ 
zar  a  prisoner,  and  leaving  the  body  of  Jacques  Colis  to 
its  final  rest,  in  that  place  where  so  many  human  forms 
had  evaporated  into  air  before  him,  unless  those  who  had 
felt  an  interest  in  him  in  life  should  see  fit  to  claim  his 
remains. 

The  ascent  between  the  Refuge  and  the  summit  of  St. 
Bernard  is  much  more  severe  than  on  any  other  part  of  the 
road.  The  end  of  the  convent,  overhanging  the  northern 
brow  of  the  gorge,  and  looking  like  a  mass  of  that  ferru¬ 
ginous  and  melancholy  rock  which  gave  the  whole  region 
so  wild  and  so  unearthly  an  aspect,  soon  became  visible, 
carved  and  moulded  into  the  shape  of  a  rude  human  habita¬ 
tion.  The  last  pitch  was  so  steep  as  to  be  formed  into  a  sort 
of  stairway,  up  which  the  groaning  mules  toiled  with 
difficulty.  This  labor  overcome,  the  party  stood  on  the 
highest  point  of  the  pass.  Another  minute  brought  them 
to  the  door  of  the  convent 


344 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Hadst  thou  not  been  by, 

A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  nature  marked, 

Noted,  and  signed  to  do  a  deed  of  shame, 

This  murder  had  not  come  into  my  mind. 

Shakespeare. 

The  arrival  of  Sigismund’s  party  at  the  hospice  preceded 
that  of  the  other  travellers  more  than  an  hour.  They 
were  received  with  the  hospitality  with  which  all  were 
then  welcomed  at  this  celebrated  convent ;  the  visits  of  the 
curious  and  the  vulgar  not  having  blunted  the  benevolence 
of  the  monks,  who,  mostly  accustomed  to  entertain  the  low¬ 
born  and  ignorant,  were  always  happy  to  relieve  the  mo¬ 
notony  of  their  solitude  by  intercourse  with  guests  of  a 
superior  class.  The  good  clavier  had  prepared  the  way  for 
their  reception ;  for  even  on  the  wild  ridge  of  St.  Bernard, 
we  do  not  fare  the  worse  for  carrying  with  us  a  prestige  of 
that  rank  and  consideration  that  are  enjoyed  in  the  world 
below.  Although  a  mild,  Christian-like  good-will  were 
manifested  to  all,  the  heiress  of  Willading,  a  name  that  was 
generally  known  and  honored  between  the  Alps  and  the 
Jura,  met  with  those  proofs  of  empressement  and  deference 
which  betray  the  secret  thought,  in  despite  of  conventional 
forms,  and  which  told  her,  plainer  than  the  words  of*  wel¬ 
come,  that  the  retired  Augustines  were  not  sorry  to  see  so 
fair  and  so  noble  a  specimen  of  their  species  within  their 
dreary  walls. 

All  this,  however,  was  lost  on  Sigismund.  He  was  too 
much  occupied  with  the  events  of  the  morning  to  note 
other  things  ;  and,  first  committing  Adelheid  and  his  sister 
to  the  care  of  their  women,  he  went  into  the  open  air  in 
order  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  rest. 

As  it  has  been  mentioned,  the  existence  of  the  venerable 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


345 


convent  of  St.  Bernard  dates  from  a  very  remote  period  of 
Christianity.  It  stands  on  the  very  brow  of  the  precipice 
which  forms  the  last  steep  ascent  in  mounting  to  the  Col. 
The  building  is  a  high,  narrow,  but  vast,  barrack-looking 
edifice,  built  of  the  ferruginous  stone  of  the  region,  having 
its  gable  placed  towards  the  Valais,  and  its  front  stretching 
in  the  direction  of  the  gorge  in  which  it  stands.  Imme¬ 
diately  before  its  principal  door,  the  rock  rises  in  an  ill- 
shapen  hillock,  across  which  runs  the  path  to  Italy.  This 
is  literally  the  highest  point  of  the  pass,  as  the  building 
itself  is  the  most  elevated  habitable  abode  in  Europe.  At 
this  spot,  the  distance  from  rock  to  rock,  spanning  the 
gorge,  may  be  a  hundred  yards,  the  wild  and  reddish  piles 
rising  on  each  side  for  more  than  a  thousand  feet.  •  These 
are  merely  dwarfs,  however,  among  their  sister  piles,  several 
of  which,  in  plain  view  of  the  convent,  reach  to  the  height 
of  eternal  snow.  This  point  in  the  road  attained,  the  path 
began  immediately  to  descend,  and  the  drippings  of  a  snow¬ 
bank  before  the  convent  door,  which  had  resisted  the 
greatest  heat  of  the  past  summer,  ran  partly  into  the  valley 
of  the  Rhone,  and  partly  into  Piedmont ;  the  waters,  after 
a  long  and  devious  course  through  the  plains  of  France  and 
Italy,  meeting  again  in  the  common  basin  of  the  Mediter¬ 
ranean.  The  path,  on  quitting  the  convent,  runs  between 
the  base  of  the  rocks  on  its  right  and  a  little  limpid  lake  on 
its  left,  the  latter  occupying  nearly  the  entire  cavity  of  the 
valley  of  the  gorge.  It  then  disappears  between  natural 
palisades  of  rock,  at  the  other  extremity  of  the  Col.  This 
is  the  point  where  the  superfluous  waters  of  the  lake  find 
their  outlet,  descending  swiftly,  in  a  brawling  little  brook, 
on  the  sunny  side  of  the  Alps.  The  frontier  of  Italy  is  met 
on  the  margin  of  the  lake,  a  long  musket-shot  from  the  abode 
of  the  Augustines,  and  near  the  site  of  a  temple  that  the 
Romans  had  raised  in  honor  of  Jupiter,  in  his  attribute  of 
director  of  storms. 

Such  was  the  outline  of  the  view  which  presented  itself 
to  Sigismund,  when  he  left  the  building  to  while  away  the 
time  that  must  necessarity  elapse  before  the  arrival  of  the 
rest  of  the  party.  The  hour  was  still  early,  though  the 


846 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


great  altitude  of  the  site  of  the  convent  had  brought  it  be¬ 
neath  the  influence  of  the  sun’s  rays  an  hour  before.  He 
had  learned  from  a  servant  of  the  Augustines,  that  a  num¬ 
ber  of  ordinary  travellers,  of  whom  in  the  fine  reason 
hundreds  at  a  time  frequently  passed  the  night  in  their  dtr- 
mitories,  were  now  breaking  their  fasts  in  the  refectory  of 
the  peasants,  and  he  was  willing  to  avoid  the  questions  that 
their  curiosity  might  prompt  when  they  came  to  hear  what 
had  occurred  lower  down  on  the  mountain.  One  of  the 
brotherhood  was  caressing  four  or  five  enormous  mastiffs, 
that  were  leaping  about  and  barking  with  deep  throats  in 
front  of  the  convent,  while  old  Uberto  moved  among  them 
with  a  gravity  and  respect  that  better  suited  his  years.  Per¬ 
ceiving  his  guest,  the  Augustine  quitted  the  dogs,  and,  lift¬ 
ing  his  Eastern-looking  cap,  he  gave  him  the  salutation  of 
the  morning.  Sigismund  met  the  frank  smile  of  the  canon, 
who  like  himself  was  }mung,  with  a  fit  return.  The  occa¬ 
sion  was  such  as  Sigismund  desired,  and  a  friendly  discourse 
succeeded,  while  they  paced  along  the  margin  of  the  lake, 
holding  the  path  that  leads  across  the  Col.^ 

“  You  are  young  in  your  charitable  office,  brother,”  re¬ 
marked  the  soldier,  when  familiarity  was  a  little  established. 
“  This  will  be  among  the  first  of  the  winters  you  will  have 
passed  at  your  benevolent  post !  ” 

“  It  will  make  the  eighth,  as  novice  and  as  canon.  We 
are  early  trained  to  this  kind  of  life,  though  no  practice  will 
enable  any  of  us  to  withstand  the  effect  which  the  thin  air 
and  intense  cold  produce  on  the  lungs  many  winters  in  suc¬ 
cession.  We  go  down  to  Martigny  when  there  is  occasion, 
and  breathe  an  atmosphere  better  suited  to  man.  Thou 
hadst  an  angry  storm  below,  the  past  night  ?  ” 

“  So  angry,  that  we  thank  God  it  is  over,  and  that  ye  are 
left  to  share  your  hospitality.  Were  there  many  on  the 
mountain  besides  ourselves,  or  did  any  come  up  from 
Italy  ?  ” 

“  There  were  none  but  those  who  are  now  in  the  common 
refectory,  and  none  came  from  Aoste.  The  season  for  the 
traveller  is  over.  This  is  a  month  in  which  we  see  only 
those  who  are  much  pressed,  and  who  have  their  reasons 


THE  HEADSMAN.  347 

for  trusting  the  weather.  In  the  summer  we  sometimes 
lodge  a  thousand  guests.” 

“  They  whom  ye  receive  have  reason  to  be  thankful, 
reverend  Augustine  ;  for,  in  sooth,  this  does  not  seem  a 
region  that  abounds  in  its  fruits.” 

Sigismund  and  the  monk  looked  around  at  the  vast  piles 
of  ragged,  naked  rocks,  and  they  smiled  as  their  eyes  met. 

“  Nature  gives  literally  nothing,”  answered  the  Augus¬ 
tine  ;  “  even  the  fuel  that  warms  us  is  transported  leagues 
on  the  backs  of  mules,  and  thou  wilt  readily  conceive  that 
of  all  others  this  is  a  necessary  we  cannot  forego.  Happily, 
we  have  some  of  our  ancient,  and  what  were  once  rich,  en¬ 
dowments  ;  and  ”  — 

The  young  canon  hesitated  to  proceed. 

“  You  were  about  to  say,  father,  that  they  who  have  the 
means  to  show  gratitude  are  not  always  unmindful  of  the 
wants  of  those  who  share  the  same  hospitality  without  pos¬ 
sessing  the  same  ability  to  manifest  their  respect  for  the  in¬ 
stitution.” 

The  Augustine  bowed,  and  he  turned  the  discourse  by 
pointing  out  the  frontiers  of  Italy,  and  the  site  of  the  an¬ 
cient  temple ;  both  of  which  they  had  this  time  reached. 
An  animal  moved  among  the  rocks,  and  attracted  their  at¬ 
tention. 

“  Can  it  be  a  chamois  !  ”  exclaimed  Sigismund,  whose 
blood  began  to  quicken  with  a  hunter’s  eagerness  ;  “  I  would 
I  had  arms !  ” 

“  It  is  a  dog,  though  not  of  our  mountain  breed !  The 
mastiffs  of  the  convent  have  failed  in  hospitality,  and  the 
poor  beast  has  been  driven  to  take  refuge  in  this  retired 
spot,  in  waiting  for  his  master,  who  probably  makes  one  of 
the  party  in  the  refectory.  See,  they  come  ;  their  approach¬ 
ing  footsteps  have  brought  the  cautious  animal  from  his 
cover.” 

Sigismund  saw,  in  truth,  that  a  party  of  three  pedestrians 
was  quitting  the  convent,  taking  the  path  for  Italy.  A  sud¬ 
den  and  painful  suspicion  flashed  upon  his  mind.  The  dog 
was  Nettuno,  most  probably  driven  by  the  mastiffs,  as  the 
monk  had  suggested,  to  seek  a  shelter  in  this  retreat ;  and 


348 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


one  of  those  who  approached,  by  his  gait  and  stature,  was 
no  other  than  his  master. 

“  Thou  knowest,  father,”  he  said,  with  a  clammy  tongue, 
for  he  was  strangely  agitated  between  reluctance  to  accuse 
Maso  of  such  a  crime,  and  horror  at  the  fate  of  Jacques 
Colis,  “  that  there  has  been  a  murder  on  the  mountain  ?  ” 

The  monk  quietly  assented.  One  who  lived  on  the  road, 
and  in  that  age,  was  not  easily  excited  by  an  event  of  so 
frequent  occurrence.  Sigismund  hastily  recounted  to  his 
companion  all  the  circumstances  that  were  then  known  to 
himself,  and  related  the  manner  in  which  he  had  first  met 
the  Italian  on  the  lake,  and  his  general  impressions  concern¬ 
ing  his  character. 

“  All  come  and  go  unquestioned  here,”  returned  the  Au¬ 
gustine,  when  the  other  had  ended.  “  Our  convent  has  been 
founded  in  charity,  and  we  pray  for  the  sinner  without  in¬ 
quiring  into  the  amount  of  his  crime.  Still  we  have  au¬ 
thority,  and  it  is  especially  our  duty  to  keep  the  road  clear 
that  our  own  purposes  may  not  be  defeated.  I  leave  thee 
to  do  what  thou  judgest  most  prudent  and  proper  in  a 
matter  so  delicate.” 

Sigismund  was  silent ;  but  as  the  pedestrians  were  draw¬ 
ing  near,  his  resolution  was  soon  and  sternly  formed.  The 
obligations  that  he  owed  to  Maso  made  him  more  prompt, 
for  it  excited  a  jealous  distrust  of  his  own  powers  to  dis¬ 
charge  what  he  conceived  to  be  a  duty.  Even  those  late 
events  in  which  his  sister  was  so  wronged  had  their  share, 
too,  on  the  decision  of  a  mind  so  resolute  to  be  upright. 
Placing  himself  in  the  middle  of  the  path,  he  awaited  the 
arrival  of  the  party,  while  the  monk  stood  quietly  at  his 
side.  When  the  travellers  were  within  speaking  distance, 
the  young  man  first  discovered  that  the  companions  of  II 
Maledetto  were  Pippo  and  Conrad.  Their  several  rencon¬ 
tres  had  made  him  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  persons 
of  the  two  latter,  to  enable  him  to  recognize  them  at  a 
glance ;  and  Sigismund  began  to  think  the  undertaking  in 
which  he  had  embarked  more  grave  than  he  had  at  first 
imagined.  Should  there  be  a  disposition  to  resist,  he  was 
but  one  against  three. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


849 


“  Buon  giorno,  Signor  Capitano,”  cried  Maso,  saluting 
with  his  cap,  when  sufficiently  near  to  those  who  occupied 
the  path  ;  “  we  meet  often,  and  in  all  weathers  ;  by  day  and 
by  night ;  on  the  land  and  on  the  water ;  in  the  valley  and 
on  the  mountain  ;  in  the  city  and  on  this  naked  rock,  as 
Providence  wills.  As  many  chances  try  men’s  characters, 
we  shall  come  to  know  each  other  in  time  !  ” 

“  Thou  hast  well  observed,  Maso ;  though  I  fear  thou  art 
a  man  oftener  met  than  easily  understood.” 

“  Signore,  I  am  amphibious,  like  Nettuno  here,  being  part 
of  the  earth  and  part  of  the  sea.  As  the  learned  say,  I  am 
not  yet  classed.  We  are  repaid  for  an  evil  night  by  a  fine 
day  ;  and  the  descent  into  Italy  will  be  pleasanter  than  we 
found  the  coming  up.  Shall  I  order  honest  Giacomo  of 
Aoste  to  prepare  the  supper,  and  to  air  the  beds  for  the 
noble  company  that  is  to  follow  ?  You  will  scarce  do  more 
than  reach  his  hostelry  before  the  young  and  the  beautiful 
will  begin  to  think  of  their  pillows.” 

“  Maso,  I  had  thought  thee  among  our  party,  when  I  left 
the  Refuge  this  morning  ?  ” 

“  By  San  Thomaso  !  Signore,  but  I  had  the  same  opin¬ 
ion  touching  yourself !  ” 

u  Thou  wert  early  afoot,  it  would  seem,  or  thou  couldst 
not  have  so  much  preceded  me  ?  ” 

“  Look  you,  brave  Signor  Sigismondo,  for  brave  I  know 
you  to  be,  and  in  the  water  a  swimmer  little  less  determined 
than  gallant  Nettuno  there  —  I  am  a  traveller,  and  have 
much  need  of  my  time,  which  is  the  larger  portion  of  my 
property.  We  sea-animals  are  sometimes  rich  and  some¬ 
times  poor,  as  the  wind  happens  to  blow,  and  of  late  I  have 
been  driven  to  struggle  with  foul  gales  and  troubled  waves. 
To  such  a  man,  an  hour  of  industry  in  the  morning  often 
gives  a  heartier  meal  and  sweeter  rest  at  night.  I  left  you 
all  in  the  Refuge  sleeping  soundly,  even  to  the  mules,”  — 
Maso  laughed  at  his  own  fancies,  as  he  included  the  brutes 
in  the  party,  —  “  and  I  reached  the  convent  just  as  the  first 
touch  of  the  sun  tipped  yonder  white  peak  with  its  purple 
light.” 

“  As  thou  left’st  us  so  early,  thou  mayest  not  have  heard, 


850 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


then,  that  the  body  of  a  murdered  man  was  found  in  the 
bone-house  —  the  building  near  that  in  which  we  slept  — 
and  that  it  is  the  body  of  one  known  ?  ” 

Sigismund  spoke  firmly  and  deliberately,  as  if  he  would 
come  by  degrees  to  his  purpose,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he 
made  the  other  sensible  of  his  being  in  earnest.  Maso 
started.  He  made  a  movement  so  unequivocally  like  one 
which  would  have  manifested  an  intention  to  proceed,  that 
the  young  man  raised  his  hand  to  repulse  him.  But  vio¬ 
lence  was  unnecessary,  for  the  mariner  instantly  became 
composed,  and  seemingly  more  disposed  to  listen. 

“  Where  there  has  been  a  crime,  Maso,  there  must  have 
been  a  criminal !  ” 

“  The  Bishop  of  Sion  could  not  have  made  truth  clearer 
to  the  sinner  than  yourself,  Signor  Sigismondo  !  Your 
manner  leads  me  to  ask  what  I  have  to  do  with  this  ?  ” 

“  There  has  been  a  murder,  Maso,  and  the  murderer  is 
sought.  The  dead  was  found  near  the  spot  where  thou 
passed  the  night ;  I  shall  not  conceal  the  unhappy  suspi¬ 
cions  that  are  so  natural.” 

“  Diamine  1  where  did  you  pass  the  night  yourself,  brave 
capitano,  if  I  may  be  so  bold  as  to  question  my  superior  ? 
Where  did  the  noble  Baron  de  Willading  take  his  rest,  and 
his  fair  daughter,  and  one  nobler  and  more  illustrious  than 
he,  and  Pierre  the  guide,  and  —  aye,  and  our  friends,  the 
mules  again  ?  ” 

Maso  laughed  recklessly  once  more,  as  he  made  this  sec¬ 
ond  allusion  to  the  patient  brutes.  Sigismund  disliked  his 
levity,  which  he  thought  forced  and  unnatural. 

“  This  reasoning  may  satisfy  thee,  unfortunate  man,  but 
it  will  not  satisfy  others.  Thou  wert  alone,  but  we  trav¬ 
elled  in  company  ;  judging  from  thy  exterior,  thou  art  but 
little  favored  by  fortune,  whereas  we  are  more  happy  in 
this  particular  ;  and  thou  hast  been,  and  art  still,  in  haste 
to  depart,  while  the  discovery  of  the  foul  deed  is  owing  to 
us  alone.  Thou  must  return  to  the  convent,  that  this  grave 
matter  may,  at  least,  be  examined.” 

II  Maledetto  seemed  troubled.  Once  or  twice  he  glanced 
his  eyes  at  the  quiet,  athletic  frame  of  the  young  mau,  and 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


351 


then  turned  them  on  the  path  in  reflection.  Although 
Sigismund  narrowly  watched  the  workings  of  his  counte¬ 
nance,  giving  a  little  of  his  attention  also,  from  time  to  time, 
to  the  movements  of  Pippo  and  the  pilgrim,  he  preserved 
himself  a  perfectly  calm  exterior.  Firm  in  his  purpose, 
accustomed  to  make  extraordinary  exertions  in  his  manly 
exercises,  and  conscious  of  his  great  physical  force,  he  was 
not  a  man  to  be  easily  daunted.  It  is  true  that  the  com¬ 
panions  of  Maso  conducted  themselves  in  a  way  to  excite 
no  additional  apprehensions  on  their  account ;  for,  on  the 
announcement  of  the  murder,  they  moved  away  from  his 
person  a  little,  as  by  a  natural  horror  of  the  hand  that  could 
have  done  the  deed.  They  now  consulted  together,  and 
profiting  by  their  situation  behind  the  back  of  the  Italian, 
they  made  signs  to  Sigismund  of  their  readiness  to  assist, 
should  it  be  necessary.  He  received  the  signal  with  satis¬ 
faction  ;  for,  though  he  knew  them  to  be  knaves,  he  suffi¬ 
ciently  understood  the  difference  between  audacious  crime 
and  mere  roguery  to  believe  they  might,  in  this  instance  at 
least,  prove  true. 

“  Thou  wilt  return  to  the  convent,  Maso,”  resumed  the 
young  soldier,  who  would  gladly  avoid  a  struggle  with  a 
man  who  had  done  him  and  those  he  loved  so  much  service, 
though  resolved  to  discharge  what  he  conceived  to  be  an 
imperious  duty  ;  “  this  pilgrim  and  his  friend  will  be  of  our 
party,  in  order  that,  when  we  quit  the  mountain,  all  may 
leave  it  blameless  and  unsuspected.” 

“  Signor  Sigismondo,  the  proposal  is  fair  ;  it  has  a  touch 
of  reason,  I  allow  ;  but  unluckily  it  does  not  suit  my  inter¬ 
ests.  I  am  engaged  in  a  delicate  mission,  and  too  much 
time  has  been  already  lost  by  the  way  to  waste  more  with¬ 
out  good  cause.  I  have  great  pity  for  poor  Jacques 
Colis  ”  — 

“  Ha !  thou  knowest  the  sufferer’s  name,  then  ;  thy  un¬ 
lucky  tongue  hath  betrayed  thee,  Maso  !  ” 

II  Maledetto  was  again  troubled.  His  features  betrayed 
it,  for  he  frowned  like  a  man  who  had  committed  a  grave 
fault  in  a  matter  touching  an  important  interest.  His  olive 
complexion  changed,  and  his  interrogator  thought  that  his 


352 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


eye  quailed  before  his  own  fixed  look.  But  the  emotion 
was  transient,  and  shuddering,  as  if  to  shake  off  a  weakness, 
his  appearance  became  once  more  natural  and  composed. 

“  Thou  makest  no  reply  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  you  have  my  answer  ;  affairs  press,  and  my 
visit  to  the  convent  of  San  Bernardo  has  been  made.  I  am 
bound  to  Aoste,  and  should  be  happy  to  do  your  bidding 
with  the  worthy  Giacomo.  I  have  but  a  step  to  make  to 
find  myself  in  the  dominions  of  the  house  of  Savoy  ;  and, 
with  your  leave,  gallant  capitano,  I  will  now  take  it.” 

Maso  moved  a  little  aside  with  the  intention  to  pass  Sig- 
ismund,  when  Pippo  and  Conrad  threw  themselves  on  him 
from  behind,  pinning  his  arms  to  his  side  by  main  force. 
The  face  of  the  Italian  grew  livid,  and  he  smiled  with  the 
contempt  and  hatred  of  an  inveterately  angered  man. 
Assembling  all  his  force,  he  suddenly  exerted  it  with  the 
energy  and  courage  of  a  lion,  shouting,  — • 

“  Nettuno  !  ” 

The  struggle  was  short  but  fierce.  When  it  terminated, 
Pippo  lay  bleeding  among  the  rocks,  with  a  broken  head, 
and  the  pilgrim  was  gasping  near  him  under  the  tremendous 
gripe  of  the  animal.  Maso  himself  stood  firm,  though  pale 
and  frowning,  like  one  who  had  collected  all  his  energies, 
both  physical  and  moral,  to  meet  this  emergency. 

“  Am  I  a  brute  to  be  set  upon  by  the  scum  of  the  earth  ?  ” 
he  cried.  “  If  thou  wouldst  aught  with  me,  Signor  Sigis- 
mondo,  raise  thine  own  arm,  but  strike  not  with  the  hands 
of  these  base  reptiles.  Thou  wilt  find  me  a  man,  in 
strength  and  courage,  at  least  not  unworthy  of  thyself.1” 

“  The  attack  on  thy  person,  Maso,  was  not  made  by  my 
order,  nor  by  my  desire/’  returned  Sigismund,  reddening. 
“  I  believe  myself  sulficient  to  arrest  thee,  and  if  not,  here 
come. assistants  that  thou  wilt  scarce  deem  it  prudent  to  re¬ 
sist.” 

The  Augustine  had  stepped  on  a  rock  the  moment  the 
struggle  commenced,  whence  he  made  a  signal  which 
brought  all  the  mastiffs  from  the  convent.  These  powerful 
animals  now  arrived  in  a  group,  apprised  by  their  instinct 
that  strife  was  afoot.  Nettuno  immediately  released  the  pil- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


853 


grim  and  stood  at  bay,  too  faithful  to  desert  his  master  in 
his  need,  and  yet  too  conscious  of  the  force  opposed  to  him 
to  court  a  contest  so  unequal.  Luckily  for  the  noble  dog,  the 
friendship  of  old  Uberto  proved  his  protection.  When  the 
younger  animals  saw  their  patriarch  disposed  to  amity,  they 
forbore  their  attack,  waiting  at  least  for  another  signal  to 
be  given.  In  the  mean  while,  Maso  had  time  to  look  about 
him,  and  to  form  his  decision  less  under  the  influence  of 
surprise  and  feeling  than  had  been  previously  the  case. 

“  Signore,”  he  answered,  “  since  it  is  your  pleasure,  I 
will  return  among  the  Augustines.  But  I  ask  as  simple 
justice,  that,  if  I  am  to  be  hunted  by  dogs  as  a  beast  of 
prey,  all  who  were  in  the  same  circumstances  as  myself 
may  become  subject  to  the  same  rule.  This  pilgrim  and 
the  Neapolitan  came  up  the  mountain  yesterday,  as  well  as 
myself,  and  I  demand  their  arrest  until  they  too  can  give 
an  account  of  themselves.  It  will  not  be  the  first  time 
that  we  have  been  inhabitants  of  the  same  prison.” 

Conrad  crossed  himself  in  submission,  neither  he  nor 
P.ippo  raising  any  objection  to  the  step.  On  the  contrary, 
each  frankly  admitted  it  was  no  more  than  equitable  on 
its  face. 

“We  are  poor  travellers  on  whom  many  accidents  have 
already  alighted,  and  we  may  well  be  pressed  to  reach  the 
end  of  our  journey,”  said  the  pilgrim ;  “  but,  that  justice 
may  be  done,  we  shall  submit  without  a  murmur.  I  am 
loaded  with  the  sins  of  many  besides  my  own,  however, 
and  St.  Peter  he  knows  that  the  last  are  not  light.  This 
holy  canon  will  see  that  masses  are  said  in  the  convent 
chapel  in  behalf  of  those  for  whom  I  travel  ;  this  duty 
done,  I  am  an  infant  in  your  hands.” 

The  good  Augustine  professed  the  perfect  readiness  of 
the  fraternity  to  pray  for  all  who  were  in  necessity,  with 
the  single  proviso  that  they  should  be  Christians.  With 
this  amicable  understanding  then,  the  peace  was  made  be 
tween  them,  and  the  parties  immediately  took  the  path 
that  led  back  to  the  convent.  On  reaching  the  building, 
Maso,  with  the  two  travellers  who  had  been  found  in  his 

company,  were  placed  in  safe  keeping  in  one  of  the  rooms 

23 


354 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  the  solid  edifice,  until  the  return  of  the  clavier  should 
enable  them  to  vindicate  their  innocence. 

Satisfied  with  himself  for  the  part  he  had  acted  in  the 
late  affair,  Sigismund  strolled  into  the  chapel,  where  at 
that  early  hour  some  of  the  brotherhood  were  always  oc¬ 
cupied  in  saying  masses  in  behalf  of  the  souls  of  the  living 
or  of  the  dead.  He  was  here  when  he  received  a  note 
from  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  apprising  him  of  the  arrest  of 
his  father,  and  the  dark  suspicions  that  were  so  naturally 
connected  with  the  transaction.  It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell 
on  the  nature  of  the  shock  he  received  from  this  intelli¬ 
gence.  After  a  few  moments  of  bitter  anguish,  he  per¬ 
ceived  the  urgency  of  making  his  sister  acquainted  with 
the  truth  as  speedily  as  possible.  The  arrival  of  the 
party  from  the  Refuge  was  expected  every  moment,  and 
by  delay  he  increased  the  risk  of  Christine’s  hearing  the 
appalling  fact  from  some  other  quarter.  He  sought  an 
audience,  therefore,  with  Adellieid  the  instant  he  had  sum¬ 
moned  sufficient  self-command  to  undertake  the  duty. 

Mademoiselle  de  Willading  was  struck  with  the  pale 
brow  and  agitated  air  of  the  young  soldier,  at  the  first 
glance  of  her  eye. 

“  Thou  hast  permitted  this  unexpected  blow  to  affect 
thee  unusually,  Sigismund,”  she  said,  smiling,  and  offering 
her  hand ;  for  she  felt  that  the  circumstances  were  those  in 
which  cold  and  heartless  forms  should  give  place  to  feel¬ 
ing  and  sincerity.  “  Thy  sister  is  tranquil,  if  not  happy.” 

“  She  does  not  know  the  worst  —  she  has  yet  to  learn 
the,  most  cruel  part  of  the  truth,  Adelheid;  they  have 
found  one  concealed  among  the  dead  of  the  bone-house, 
and  are  now  leading  him  here  as  the  murderer  of  poor 
Jacques  Colis !  ” 

“  Another !  ”  said  Adelheid,  turning  pale  in  alarm. 
“  We  appear  to  be  surrounded  by  assassins  !” 

“  No,  it  cannot  be  true  !  I  know  my  poor  father’s  mild¬ 
ness  of  disposition  too  well  ;  his  habitual  tenderness  to  all 
around  him ;  his  horror  at  the  sight  of  blood,  even  for  his 
odious  task  !  ” 

“  Sigismund,  thy  father  !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ODD 


The  young  man  groaned.  Concealing  his  face  with  his 
hands,  he  sank  into  a  seat.  The  fearful  truth,  with  all  its 
causes  and  consequences,  began  to  dawn  upon  Adelheid. 
Sinking  upon  a  chair  herself,  she  sat  long  looking  at  the 
convulsed  and  working  frame  of  Sigismund  in  silent  horror. 
It  appeared  to  her,  that  Providence,  for  some  great  but 
secret  purpose,  was  disposed  to  visit  them  all  with  more 
than  a  double  amount  of  its  anger,  and  that  a  family  which 
had  been  accursed  for  so  many  generations,  was  about  to 
fill  the  measure  of  its  woes.  Still  her  own  true  heart  did 
not  change.  On  the  contrary,  its  long-cherished  and  secret 
purpose  rather  grew  stronger  under  the  sudden  appeal  to 
its  gentle  and  noble  properties,  and  never  was  the  resolu¬ 
tion  to  devote  herself,  her  life,  and  all  her  envied  hopes,  to 
the  solace  of  his  unmerited  wrongs,  so  strong  and  riveted 
as  at  that  trvino;  moment. 

In  a  little  time  Sigismund  regained  enough  self-command 
to  be  able  to  commence  the  narrative  of  what  had  passed. 
They  then  concerted  together  the  best  means  to  make 
Christine  acquainted  with  that  which  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  she  should  now  know. 

“  Tell  her  the  simple  truth,”  added  Sigismund  ;  “  it  can¬ 
not  long  be  concealed,  and  it  were  better  that  she  knew  it ; 
but  tell  her,  also,  my  firm  dependence  on  our  father’s  inno¬ 
cence.  God,  for  one  of  those  inscrutable  purposes  which 
set  human  intelligence  at  defiance,  has  made  him  a  common 
executioner,  but  the  curse  has  not  extended  to  his  nature. 
Trust  me,  dearest  Adelheid,  a  more  gentle,  dove-like  nature 
does  not  exist  in  man  than  that  of  the  poor  Balthazar  — 
the  despised  and  persecuted  Balthazar.  I  have  heard  my 
mother  dwell  upon  the  nights  of  anguish  and  suffering 
that  have  preceded  the  day  on  which  the  duties  of  his  office 
wrere  to  be  discharged  ;  and  often  have  I  heard  that  admi¬ 
rable  woman,  whose  spirit  is  far  more  equal  to  support  our 
unmerited  fortunes,  declare  she  has  often  prayed  that  he 
and  all  that  are  hers,  might  die,  so  that  they  died  inno¬ 
cently,  rather  than  one  of  a  temper  so  gentle  and  harmless 
should  again  be  brought  to  endure  the  agony  she  had  wit' 
nessed !  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


BCG 

“  It  is  unhappy  that  he  should  be  here  at  so  luckless  a 
moment !  What  unhappy  motives  can  have  led  thy  father 
to  this  spot,  at  a  time  so  extraordinary  ?  ” 

“  Christine  will  tell  thee  that  she  expected  to  see  him  at 
the  convent.  We  are  a  race  proscribed,  Mademoiselle  de 
Willading,  but  we  are  human.” 

“  Dearest  Sigismund  ”  — 

“  I  feel  my  injustice,  and  can  only  pray  to  be  forgiven. 
But  there  are  moments  of  feeling  so  intense,  that  I  am 
ready  to  believe  and  treat  all  of  my  species  as  common 
enemies.  Christine  is  an  only  daughter,  and  thou  thyself, 
beloved  Adelheid,  kind,  dutiful,  and  good  as  I  know  thee 
to  be,  art  not  more  dear  to  the  Baron  de  Willading  than 
my  poor  sister  is  among  us.  Her  parents  have  yielded  her 
to  thy  generous  kindness,  for  they  believe  it  for  her  good  ; 
but  their  hearts  have  been  wrung  by  the  separation.  Thou 
didst  not  know  it,  but  Christine  took  her  last  embrace  of 
her  mother  here  on  the  mountain,  at  Liddes,  and  it  was 
then  agreed  that  her  father  should  watch  her  in  safety  over 
the  Col,  and  bestow  the  final  blessing  at  Aoste.  Mademoi¬ 
selle  de  Willading,  you  move  in  pride,  surrounded  by  many 
protectors,  who  are  honored  in  doing  you  service  ;  but  the 
abased  and  the  hunted  must  indulge  even  their  best  affec¬ 
tions  stealthily,  and  without  obtrusion  !  The  love  and  ten¬ 
derness  of  Balthazar  would  pass  for  mockery  with  the  vul¬ 
gar  !  Such  is  man  in  his  habits  and  opinions,  when  wrong 
usurps  the  place  of  right.” 

Adelheid  saw  that  the  moment  was  not  favorable  for 
urging  consolation,  and  she  abstained  from  a  reply.  She 
rejoiced,  however,  to  hear  the  presence  of  the  headsman  so 
satisfactorily  accounted  for,  though  she  could  not  quiet  her¬ 
self  from  apprehension  that  by  reason  of  the  universal  weak¬ 
ness  of  human  nature,  which  so  suddenly  permits  the  perver¬ 
sion  of  the  best  of  our  passions  to  the  worst,  it  was  prob¬ 
able  that  Balthazar,  suffering  intensely  by  this  compelled 
separation  from  his  daughter,  on  accidentally  encountering 
the  man  who  was  its  cause,  might  have  listened  to  some 
violent  impulse  of  resentment  and  revenge.  She  saw  also 
that  Sigismund,  in  despite  of  his  general  confidence  in  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


357 


principles  of  his  father,  had  fearful  glimmerings  of  some 
such  event,  and  that  he  fearfully  anticipated  the  worst,  even 
while  he  most  professed  confidence  in  the  innocence  of  the 
accused.  The  interview  was  soon  ended,  and  they  sepa¬ 
rated  ;  each  endeavoring  to  invent  plausible  reasons  for 
what  had  happened. 

The  arrival  of  the  party  from  the  Refuge  took  place 
soon  afterwards.  It  was  followed  by  the  necessary  expla¬ 
nations,  and  a  more  detailed  narrative  of  all  that  had  passed. 
A  consultation  was  held  between  the  chiefs  of  the  brother¬ 
hood  and  the  two  old  nobles,  and  the  course  it  was  most 
expedient  to  pursue  was  calmly  and  prudently  discussed. 

The  result  was  not  known  for  some  hours  later.  It  was 
then  generally  proclaimed  in  the  convent  that  a  grave  and 
legal  investigation  of  all  the  facts  was  to  take  place  with 
the  least  possible  delay. 

The  Col  of  St.  Bernard,  as  has  been  stated  already,  lies 
within  the  limits  of  the  present  canton,  but  what  was  then 
the  allied  state  of  the  Valais.  The  crime  had  consequently 
been  committed  within  the  jurisdiction  of  that  country  ; 
but  as  the  Valais  was  thus  leagued  with  Switzerland,  there 
existed  such  an  intimate  understanding  between  the  two, 
that  it  was  rare  any  grave  proceedings  were  had  against  a 
citizen  of  either  in  the  dominion  of  the  other,  without  pay¬ 
ing  great  deference  to  the  feelings  and  the  rights  of  the 
country  of  the  accused.  Messengers  were  therefore  dis¬ 
patched  to  Vevey,  to  inform  the  authorities  of  that  place  of  a 
transaction  which  involved  the  safety  of  an  officer  of  the 
great  canton  (for  such  was  Balthazar),  and  which  had  cost 
a  citizen  of  Vaud  his  life.  On  the  other  hand,  a  similar 
communication  was  sent  to  Sion,  the  two  places  being  about 
equidistant  from  the  convent,  with  such  pressing  invitations 
to  the  authorities  to  be  prompt,  as  were  deemed  necessary  to 
bring  on  an  immediate  investigation.  Melchior  de  Willa- 
ding,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend  the  bailiff,  set  forth  the  incon¬ 
venience  of  his  return  with  Adelheid  at  that  late  season, 
and  the  importance  of  the  functionary’s  testimony,  with 
such  other  statements  as  were  likely  to  effect  his  wishes  ; 
while  the  superior  of  the  brotherhood  charged  himself  with 


358 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


making  representations,  with  a  similar  intent,  to  the  heads 
of  his  own  republic.  Justice  in  that  age  was  not  adminis¬ 
tered  as  frankty  and  openly  as  in  this  later  period,  its  agents 
in  the  Old  World  exercising  even  now  a  discretion  that  we 
are  not  accustomed  to  see  confided  to  them.  Her  proceed¬ 
ings  were  enveloped  in  darkness,  the  blind  deity  being  far 
more  known  in  her  decrees  than  in  her  principles,  and  mys¬ 
tery  was  then  deemed  an  important  auxiliary  of  power. 

With  this  brief  explanation  we  shall  shift  the  time  to  the 
third  day  from  that  on  which  the  travellers  reached  the 
convent,  referring  the  reader  to  the  succeeding  chapter  for 
an  account  of  what  it  brought  forth. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


359 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Anon  a  figure  enters,  quaintly  neat, 

All  pride  and  business,  bustle  and  conceit  ; 

With  looks  unaltered  by  these  scenes  of  woe, 

With  speed  that,  entering,  speaks  his  haste  to  go. 

He  bids  the  gazing  throng  around  him  fly, 

And  carries  fate  and  physic  in  his  eye. 

Crabbe. 

There  is  another  receptacle  for  those  who  die  on  the 
Great  St.  Bernard,  hard  by  the  convent  itself.  At  the 
close  of  the  time  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter,  and  near 
the  approach  of  night,  Sigismund  was  pacing  the  rocks  on 
which  this  little  chapel  stands,  buried  in  reflections  to  which 
his  own  history  and  the  recent  events  had  given  birth. 
The  snow  that  fell  during  the  late  storm  had  entirely  dis¬ 
appeared,  and  the  frozen  element  was  now  visible  only  on 
those  airy  pinnacles  that  form  the  higher  peaks  of  the  Alps. 
Twilight  had  already  settled  into  the  lower  valleys,  but  the 
whole  of  the  superior  region  was  glowing  with  the  fairy -like 
lustre  of  the  last  rays  of  the  sun.  The  air  was  chill,  for  at 
that  hour  and  season,  whatever  might  be  the  state  of  the 
weather,  the  evening  invariably  brought  with  it  a  positive 
sensation  of  cold  in  the  gorge  of  St.  Bernard,  where  frosts 
prevailed  at  night,  even  in  midsummer.  Still  the  wind, 
though  strong,  was  balmy  and  soft,  blowing  athwart  the 
heated  plains  of  Lombardy,  and  reaching  the  mountains 
charged  with  the  moisture  of  the  Adriatic  and  the  Mediter¬ 
ranean.  As  the  young  man  turned  in  his  walk,  and  faced 
this  breeze,  it  came  over  his  spirit  with  a  feeling  of  hope 
and  home.  The  greater  part  of  his  life  had  been  passed 
in  the  sunny  country  whence  it  blew,  and  there  were  mo¬ 
ments  when  he  was  lulled  into  forgetfulness,  by  the  grateful 
recollections  imparted  by  its  fragrance.  But  when  com¬ 
pelled  to  turn  northward  again,  and  his  eye  fell  on  the 


360 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


misty,  hoary  piles  that  distinguished  his  native  land,  rude 
and  ragged  faces  of  rock,  frozen  glaciers,  and  deep  ravine¬ 
like  valleys  and  glens,  seemed  to  him  to  be  types  of  his 
own  stormy,  unprofitable,  and  fruitless  life,  and  to  foretell 
a  career  which,  though  it  might  have  touches  of  grandeur, 
was  doomed  to  be  barren  of  all  that  is  genial  and  consola- 
tory. 

All  in  and  about  the  convent  was  still.  The  mountain 
had  an  imposing  air  of  deep  solitude  amid  the  wildest  nat¬ 
ural  magnificence.  Few  travellers  had  passed  since  the 
storm,  and,  luckily  for  those  who,  under  the  peculiar  cir¬ 
cumstances  in  which  they  were  placed,  so  much  desired 
privacy,  all  of  these  had  diligently  gone  their  several  ways. 
None  were  left,  therefore,  on  the  Col,  but  those  who  had 
an  interest  in  the  serious  investigations  which  were  about 
to  take  place.  An  officer  of  justice  from  Sion,  wearing  the 
livery  of  the  Valais,  appeared  at  a  window,  a  sign  that  the 
regular  authorities  of  the  country  had  taken  cognizance 
of  the  murder  ;  but  disappearing,  the  young  man,  to  all 
external  appearance,  was  left  in  the  solitary  possession  of 
the  pass.  Even  the  dogs  had  been  kenneled,  and  the  pious 
monks  were  healthfully  occupied  in  the  religious  offices  of 
the  vespers. 

Sigismund  turned  his  eye  upwards  to  the  apartment  in 
which  Adelheid  and  his  sister  dwelt,  but  as  the  solemn  mo¬ 
ment  in  which  so  much  was  to  be  decided  drew  nearer, 
they  also  had  withdrawn  into  themselves,  ceasing  to  hold 
communion,  even  by  means  of  the  eyes,  with  aught  that 
might  divert  their  holy  and  pure  thoughts  from  ceaseless 
and  intense  devotional  reflections.  Until  now  he  had  been 
occasionally  favored  with  an  answering  and  kind  look  from 
one  or  the  other  of  these  single-hearted  and  affectionate 
girls,  both  of  whom  he  so  warmly  loved,  though  with  sen¬ 
timents  so  different.  It  seemed  that  they  too  had  at  last 
left  him  to  his  isolated  and  hopeless  existence.  Sensible 
that  this  passing  thought  was  weak  and  unmanly,  the  young 
man  renewed  his  walk,  and,  instead  of  turning  as  before,  he 
moved  slowly  on,  stopping  only  when  he  had  reached  the 
opening  of  the  little  chapel  of  the  dead. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


361 

Unlike  the  building  lower  down  the  path,  the  bone- 
house  at  the  convent  is  divided  into  two  apartments ;  the 
exterior,  and  one  that  may  be  called  the  interior,  though 
both  are  open  to  the  weather.  The  former  contained 
piles  of  disjointed  human  bones,  bleached  by  the  storms 
that  beat  in  at  the  windows,  while  the  latter  is  consecrated 
to  the  covering  of  those  that  still  preserve,  in  their  outward 
appearanca  at  least,  some  of  the  more  familiar  traces  of 
humanity  The  first  had  its  usual  complement  of  dissev¬ 
ered*  and  confounded  fragments,  in  which  the  remains  of 
young  and  old,  of  the  two  sexes,  the  fierce  and  the  meek, 
the  penitent  and  the  sinner,  lay  in  indiscriminate  confusion 
—  an  eloquent  reproach  to  the  pride  of  man ;  while  the 
walls  of  the  last  supported  some  twenty  blackened  and 
shriveled  effigies  of  the  race,  to  show  to  what  a  pass  of 
disgusting  and  frightful  deformity  the  human  form  can  be 
reduced,  when  deprived  of  that  noble  principle  which 
likens  it  to  its  divine  Creator.  On  a  table,  in  the  centre 
of  a  group  of  black  and  grinning  companions  in  misfor¬ 
tune,  sat  all  that  was  left  of  Jacques  Colis,  who  had  been 
removed  from  the  bone-house  below  to  this  at  the  convent 
for  purposes  connected  with  the  coming  investigation. 
The  body  was  accidentally  placed  in  such  an  attitude  that 
the  face  was  brought  within  the  line  of  the  parting 
light,  while  it  had  no  other  covering  than  the  clothes 
worn  by  the  murdered  man  in  life.  Sigismund  gazed  long 
at  the  pallid  lineaments.  They  were  still  distorted  with 
the  agony  produced  by  separating  the  soul  from  the  body. 
All  feeling  of  resentment  for  his  sister’s  wrongs  was  lost 
in  pity  for  the  fate  that  had  so  suddenly  overtaken  one, 
in  whom  the  passions,  the  interests,  and  the  complicated 
machinery  of  this  state  of  being,  were  so  actively  at  work. 
Then  came  the  bitter  apprehension  that  his  own  father,  in 
a  moment  of  ungovernable  anger,  excited  by  the  accumu¬ 
lated  wrongs  that  bore  so  hard  on  him  and  his,  might 
really  have  been  the  instrument  of  effecting  the  fearful 
and  sudden  change.  Sickening  with  the  thought,  the 
young  man  turned  and  walked  away  towards  the  brow  of 
the  declivity.  Voices,  ascending  to  his  ear,  recalled  him 
to  the  actual  situation  of  things. 


362 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


A  train  of  mules  were  climbing  the  last  acclivity  where 
the  path  takes  the  broken,  precipitous  appearance  of  a 
flight  of  steps.  The  light  was  still  sufficient  to  distinguish 
the  forms  and  general  appearance  of  the  travellers. 
Sigismund  immediately  recognized  them  to  be  the  bailiff 
of  Vevey  and  his  attendants,  for  whose  arrival  the 
formal  proceedings  of  the  examination  had  alone  been 
stayed. 

“  A  fair  evening,  Herr  Sigismund,  and  a  happy  meet¬ 
ing,”  cried  Peterchen,  so  soon  as  his  weary  mule,  which 
frequently  halted  under  its  unwieldy  burden,  had  brought 
him  within  hearing.  “  Little  did  I  think  to  see  thee  again 
so  quickly,  and  less  still  to  lay  eyes  on  this  holy  convent ; 
for  though  the  traveller  might  have  returned  in  thy 
person,  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  ”  —  here  the  bailiff 
winked,  for  he  was  one  of  those  Protestants  whose  faith 
was  most  manifested  in  these  side-hits  at  the  opinions  and 
practices  of  Rome  —  “nothing  but  a  miracle,  I  say,  and 
that  too  a  miracle  of  some  saint  whose  bones  have  been 
drying  these  ten  thousand  years,  until  every  morsel  of 
our  weak  flesh  has  fairly  disappeared,  could  bring  down 
old  St.  Bernard’s  abode  upon  the  shores  of  the  Leman. 
I  have  known  many  who  have  left  Vaud  to  cross  the  Alps 
come  back  and  winter  in  Vevey  ;  but  never  did  I  know 
the  stone  that  was  placed  upon  another,  in  a  workmanlike 
manner,  quit  its  bed  without  help  from  the  hand  of  man. 
They  say  stones  are  particularly  hard-hearted,  and  yet 
your  saint  and  miracle-monger  hath  a  way  to  move 
them !  ” 

Peterchen  chuckled  at  his  own  pleasantry,  as  men  in 
authority  are  apt  to  enjoy  that  which  comes  exclusively 
of  their  own  cleverness,  and  he  winked  round  among  his 
followers,  as  if  he  would  invite  them  to  bear  witness  to  the 
rap  he  had  given  the  Papists,  even  on  their  own  exclusive 
ground.  When  the  platform  of  the  Col  was  attained,  he 
checked  the  mule  and  continued  his  address,  for  want  of 
wind  had  nipped  his  wit,  as  it  might  be,  in  the  bud. 

“  A  bad  business  this,  Herr  Sigismund ;  a  thoroughly 
bad  affair.  It  has  drawn  me  far  from  home,  at  a  ticklish 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


363 


season,  and  it  has  unexpectedly  stopped  the  Herr  von 
Willading  (he  spoke  in  German)  in  his  journey  over  the 
mountains,  and  that,  too,  at  a  moment  when  all  had  need 
be  diligent  among  the  Alps.  How  does  the  keen  air  of 
the  Col  agree  with  the  fair  Adelheid  ?  ” 

“  God  be  thanked,  Herr  Bailiff,  in  bodily  health  that 
excellent  young  lady  was  never  better.” 

“  God  be  thanked,  right  truly !  She  is  a  tender  flower, 
and  one  that  might  be  suddenly  cut  off  by  the  frosts  of 
St.  Bernard.  And  the  noble  Genoese  who  travels  with 
so  much  modest  simplicity,  in  a  way  to  reprove  the  vain 
and  idle  —  I  hope  he  does  not  miss  the  sun  among  our 
rocks  ?  ” 

“  He  is  an  Italian,  and  must  think  of  us  and  our  climate 
according  to  his  habits ;  though  in  the  way  of  health  he 
seems  at  his  ease.” 

“Well,  this  is  consolatory  !  Herr  Sigismund,  were  the 
truth  known,”  rejoined  Peterchen,  bending  as  far  forward 
on  his  mule  as  a  certain  protuberance  of  his  body  would 
permit,  and  then  suddenly  drawing  himself  up  again  in 
reserve  —  “  but  a  state  secret  is  a  state  secret,  and  least  of 
all  should  it  escape  one  who  is  truly  and  legitimately  a 
child  of  the  state.  My  love  and  friendship  for  Melchior 
von  Willading  are  great,  and  of  right  excellent  quality  ; 
but  I  should  not  have  visited  this  pass,  were  it  not  to  do 
honor  to  our  guest  the  Genoese.  I  would  not  that  the 
noble  stranger  went  down  from  our  hills  with  an  unsavory 
opinion  of  our  hospitality.  Hath  the  honorable  chatelain 
from  Sion  reached  the  hill  ?  ” 

“  He  has  been  among  us  since  the  turn  of  the  day, 
mein  Herr,  and  is  now  in  conference  with  those  you  have 
just  named,  on  matters  connected  with  the  object  of  your 
common  visit.” 

“  He  is  an  honest  magistrate !  and  like  ourselves, 
Master  Sigismund,  he  comes  of  the  pure  German  root, 
which  is  a  foundation  to  support  merit,  though  it  might 
better  be  said  by  another.  Had  he  a  comfortable 
ride  ?  ” 

“  I  have  heard  no  complaint  of  his  ascent.” 


364 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“’Tis  well.  When  the  magistrate  goes  forth  to  do 
justice,  he  hath  a  right  to  look  for  a  fair  time.  All  are 
then  comfortable, — the  noble  Genoese,  the  honorable 
Melchior,  and  the  worthy  chatelain.  And  Jacques 
Colis  ?  ” 

“  You  know  his  unhappy  fate,  Herr  Bailiff,”  returned 
Sigismund  briefly ;  for  he  was  a  little  vexed  with  the 
other’s  phlegm  in  a  matter  that  so  nearly  touched  his  own 
feelings. 

“  If  I  did  not  know  it,  Herr  Steinbach,  dost  think  I 
should  now  be  here,  instead  of  preparing  for  a  warm  bed 
near  the  great  square  of  Vevey  ?  Poor  Jacques  Colis ! 
Well,  he  did  the  ceremonies  of  the  abbaye  an  ill  turn  in 
refusing  to  buckle  with  the  headsman’s  daughter,  but  I  do 
not  know  that  he  at  all  deserved  the  fate  with  which  he 
has  met.” 

“  God  forbid  that  any  who  were  hurt,  and  that  perhaps 
not  without  reason,  by  his  want  of  faith,  should  think  his 
weakness  merited  a  punishment  so  heavy !  ” 

“  Thou  speakest  like  a  sensible  youth,  a  very  sensible 
youth  —  aye,  and  like  a  Christian,  Herr  Sigismund,”  an¬ 
swered  Peterchen,  “  and  I  approve  of  thy  words.  To 
refuse  to  wive  a  maiden,  and  to  be  murdered  are  very  dif¬ 
ferent  offenses,  and  should  not  be  confounded.  Dost  think 
these  Augustines  keep  kirschwasser  among  their  stores  ? 
It  is  strong  work  to  climb  up  to  their  abode,  and  strong 
toil  needs  strong  drink.  Well,  should  they  not  be  so  pro¬ 
vided,  we  must  make  the  best  of  their  other  liquors.  Herr 
Sigismund,  do  me  the  favor  to  lend  me  thy  arm.” 

The  bailiff  now  alighted  with  stiffened  limbs,  and,  tak¬ 
ing  the  arm  of  the  other,  he  moved  slowly  towards  the 
building. 

“  It  is  damnable  to  bear  malice,  and  doubly  damnable  to 
bear  malice  against  the  dead  !  Therefore  I  beg  you  to  take 
notice  that  I  have  quite  forgotten  the  recent  conduct  of 
the  deceased  in  the  matter  of  our  public  games,  as  it  be¬ 
comes  an  impartial  and  upright  judge  to  do.  Poor  Jacques 
Colis  !  Ah,  death  is  awful  at  any  time,  but  it  is  tenfold 
terrible  to  die  in  this  sudden  manner,  post-haste  as  it  were, 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


865 


and  that,  too,  on  a  path  where  we  put  one  foot  before  the 
other  with  so  much  bodily  pain.  This  is  the  ninth  visit  I 
have  made  the  Augustines,  and  I  cannot  flatter  the  holy 
monks  on  the  subject  of  their  roads,  much  as  I  wish  them 
well.  Is  the  reverend  clavier  back  at  his  post  again?” 

“  He  is,  and  has  been  active  in  taking  the  usual  exami¬ 
nations.” 

“  Activity  is  his  strong  property,  and  he  needs  be  that, 
Herr  Steinbach,  who  passeth  the  life  of  a  mountaineer. 
The  noble  Genoese,  and  my  ancient  friend  Melchior,  and 
his  fair  daughter  the  beautiful  Adelheid,  and  the  equitable 
chatelain,  thou  sayest,  are  all  fairly  reposed  and  comfort¬ 
able  ?  ” 

“  Herr  Bailiff,  they  have  reason  to  thank  God  that  the 
late  storm  and  their  mental  troubles  have  done  them  no 
harm.” 

“So  —  I  would  these  Augustines  kept  kirschwasser 
among  their  liquors  !  ” 

Peterchen  entered  the  convent,  where  his  presence 
alone  was  wanting  to  proceed  to  business.  The  mules 
were  housed,  the  guides  received  as  usual  in  the  building, 
and  then  the  preparations  for  the  long-delayed  examina¬ 
tions  were  seriously  commenced. 

It  has  already  been  mentioned  that  the  fraternity  of  St. 
Bernard  was  of  very  ancient  origin.  It  was  founded  in 
the  year  962  by  Bernard  de  Menthon,  an  Augustine  canon 
of  Aoste  in  Piedmont,  for  the  double  purpose  of  bodily 
succor  and  spiritual  consolation.  The  idea  of  establishing 
a  religious  community  in  the  midst  of  savage  rocks,  and  at 
the  highest  point  trod  by  the  foot  of  a  man,  was  worthy 
of  Christian  self-denial  and  a  benevolent  philanthropy. 
The  experiment  appears  to  have  succeeded  in  a  degree 
that  is  commensurate  with  its  noble  intention ;  for  cen¬ 
turies  have  gone  by,  civilization  has  undergone  a  thousand 
changes,  empires  have  been  formed  and  upturned,  thrones 
destroyed,  and  one  half  the  world  has  been  rescued  from 
barbarism,  while  this  piously-founded  edifice  still  remains 
in  its  simple  and  respectable  usefulness  where  it  was  first 
erected,  the  refuge  of  the  traveller  and  a  shelter  for  the 
poor. 


866 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


The  convent  buildings  are  necessarily  vast,  lut,  as  all 
its  other  materials  had  to  be  transported  to  the  place  it 
occupies  on  the  backs  of  mules,  they  are  constructed  chiefly 
of  the  ferruginous,  hoary -looking  stones  that  were  quarried 
from  the  native  rock.  The  cells  of  the  monks,  the  long 
corridors,  refectories  for  the  different  classes  of  travellers, 
and  suited  to  the  numbers  of  the  guests,  as  well  as  those 
for  the  canons  and  their  servants,  and  lodging-rooms  of 
different  degrees  of  magnitude  and  convenience,  with  a 
chapel  of  some  antiquity  and  of  proper  size,  composed  then, 
as  now,  the  internal  arrangements.  There  is  no  luxury, 
some  comfort  in  behalf  of  those  in  whom  indulgence  has 
become  a  habit,  and  much  of  the  frugal  hospitality  that  is 
addressed  to  the  personal  wants  and  the  decencies  of  life. 
Beyond  this,  the  building,  the  entertainment,  and  the 
brotherhood,  are  marked  by  a  severe  monastic  self-denial, 
which  appears  to  have  received  a  character  of  barren  and 
stern  simplicity  from  the  unvarying  nakedness  of  all  that 
meets  the  eye  in  that  region  of  frost  and  sterility. 

We  shall  not  stop  to  say  much  of  the  little  courtesies 
and  the  ceremonious  asseverations  of  mutual  good-will  and 
respect  that  passed  between  the  Bailiff  of  Vevey  and  the 
Prior  of  St.  Bernard,  on  the  occasion  of  their  present 
meeting.  Peterchen  was  known  to  the  brotherhood,  and, 
though  a  Protestant,  and  one  too  that  did  not  forbear  to 
deliver  his  jest  or  his  witticism  against  Rome  and  its  flock 
at  will,  he  was  sufficiently  well  esteemed.  In  all  the 
quetes,  or  collections  of  the  convent,  the  well-meaning 
Bernois  had  really  shown  himself  a  man  of  bowels,  and 
one  that  was  disposed  to  favor  humanity,  even  while  it 
helped  the  cause  of  his  arch-enemy,  the  Pope.  The 
clavier  was  always  well  received,  not  only  in  his  bailiwick 
but  in  his  chateau,  and  in  spite  of  numberless  little 
skirmishes  on  doctrine  and  practice,  they  always  met  with 
a  welcome,  and  generally  parted  in  peace.  This  feeling 
of  amity  and  good-will  extended  to  the  superior  and  to  all 
the  others  of  the  holy  community,  for  in  addition  to  a 
certain  heartiness  of  character  in  the  bailiff,  there  was 
mutual  interest  to  maintain  it,  At  the  period  of  which 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


367 


we  write,  the  vast  possessions  with  which  the  monks  of 
St.  Bernard  had  formerly  been  endowed  were  already 
much  reduced  by  sequestrations  in  different  countries,  that 
of  Savoy  in  particular,  and  they  were  reduced  then,  as  now, 
to  seek  supplies  to  meet  the  constant  demands  of  travellers, 
in  the  liberality  of  the  well-disposed  and  charitable  ;  and 
the  liberality  of  Peterchen  was  thought  to  be  cheaply 
purchased  by  his  jokes,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had 
so  many  occasions,  either  in  his  own  person  or  those  of 
his  friends,  to  visit  the  convent,  that  he  always  forbore  to 
push  contention  to  a  quarrel. 

“  Welcome  again,  Herr  Bailiff,  and  for  the  ninth  time 
welcome  !  ”  continued  the  prior,  as  he  took  the  hand  of 
Peterchen,  leading  the  way  to  his  own  private  parlor; 
“  thou  art  always  a  welcome  guest  on  the  mountain,  for 
we  know  that  we  entertain  at  least  a  friend.” 

“  And  a  heretic,”  added  Peterchen,  laughing  with  all 
his  might,  though  he  uttered  a  joke  which  he  now  repeated 
for  the  ninth  time.  “We  have  met  often,  Herr  Prior, 
and  I  hope  we  shall  meet  finally,  after  all  our  clambering 
of  mountains,  as  well  as  our  clambering  after  worldly 
benefits,  is  ended,  and  that  where  honest  men  come  to¬ 
gether,  in  spite  of  Pope  or  Luther,  books,  sermons,  aves,  or 
devils  !  This  thought  cheers  me  whenever  I  offer  thee 
my  hand,”  shaking  that  of  the  other  with  a  hearty  good¬ 
will  ;  “  for  I  should  not  like  to  think,  Father  Michael, 
that,  when  we  set  out  on  the  last  long  journey,  we  are  to 
travel  forever  in  different  ways.  Thou  mayst  tarry  awhile, 
.  if  thou  seest  fit,  in  thy  purgatory,  which  is  a  lodging  of 
thine  own  invention,  and  should  therefore  suit  thee,  but 
I  trust  to  continue  on,  until  fairly  housed  in  heaven, 
miserable  and  unhappy  sinner  that  I  am !  ” 

Peterchen  spoke  in  the  confident  voice  of  one  accustomed 
to  utter  his  sentiments  to  inferiors,  who  either  dared  not, 
or  did  not  deem  it  wise  to  dispute  his  oracles  ;  and  he 
ended  with  another  deep-mouthed  laugh,  that  filled 
the  vaulted  apartment  of  the  smiling  prior  to  the  ceiling. 
Father  Michael  took  it  all  in  good  part,  answering,  as 
was  his  wont,  in  mildness  and  good-tempered  charity  ;  for 


868 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


he  was  a  priest  of  much  learning,  deep  reflection,  and 
rebuked  opinions.  The  community  over  which  he  pre¬ 
sided  was  so  far  worldly  in  its  object  as  to  keep  the  canons 
in  constant  communion  with  men,  and  he  would  not  now 
have  met  for  the  first  time  one  of  those  self-satisfied, 
authoritative,  boisterous,  well-meaning  beings,  of  whose 
class  Peterchen  formed  so  conspicuous  a  member,  had  this 
been  the  first  of  the  bailiff’s  visits  to  the  Col.  As  it  was, 
however,  the  prior  not  only  understood  the  species,  but  he 
well  knew  the  individual  specimen,  and  he  was  well 
enough  disposed  to  humor  the  noisy  pleasantry  of  his 
companion.  Disburdened  of  his  superfluous  clothing, 
delivered  of  his  introductory  jokes,  and  having  achieved 
his  salutations  to  the  several  canons,  with  suitable  words 
of  recognition  to  the  three  or  four  novices  who  were 
usually  found  on  the  mountain,  Peterchen  declared  his 
readiness  to  enter  on  the  duty  of  what  the  French  call 
restoration.  This  want  had  been  foreseen,  and  the  prior 
led  the  way  to  a  private  refectory,  where  preparations 
had  been  made  for  a  sufficient  supper,  the  bailiff  being 
very  generally  known  to  be  a  huge  feeder. 

“  Thou  wilt  not  fare  as  well  as  in  thy  warm  and  cheerful 
town  of  Yevey,  which  outdoes  most  of  Italy  in  its  pleasant¬ 
ness  and  fruits  ;  but  thou  shalt,  at  least,  drink  of  thine  own 
warm  wines,”  observed  the  superior,  as  they  went  along  the 
corridor ;  “  and  a  right  good  company  awaits  thee,  to  share 
not  only  thy  repast,  but  thy  good  companionship.” 

“  Hast  ever  a  drop  of  kirschwasser,  brother  Michael,  in 
thy  convent  ?  ” 

“We  have  not  only  that,  but  we  have  the  Baron  de 
Willading,  and  a  noble  Genoese  who  is  in  his  company ; 
they  are  ready  to  set  to,  the  moment  they  can  see  thy  face.” 

“  A  noble  Genoese  !  ” 

“  An  Italian  gentleman,  of  a  certainty  ;  I  think  they  call 
him  a  Genoese.” 

Peterchen  stopped,  laid  a  finger  on  his  nose,  and  looked 
mysterious  ;  but  he  forbore  to  speak,  for,  by  the  open,  sim¬ 
ple  countenance  of  the  monk,  he  saw  that  the  other  had  no 
suspicion  of  his  meaning. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


869 


u  I  will  hazard  my  office  of  bailiff  against  that  of  thy 
worthy  clavier,  that  he  is  just  what  he  seemeth,  —  that  is  to 
say,  a  Genoese  !  ” 

“  The  risk  will  not  be  great,  for  so  he  has  already 
announced  himself.  We  ask  no  questions  here,  and  be  he 
who  or  what  he  may,  he  is  welcome  to  come,  and  welcome 
to  depart,  in  peace.” 

“  Aye,  this  is  well  enough  for  an  Augustine  on  the  top 
the  Alps,  —  he  hath  attendants  ?  ” 

“  A  menial  and  a  friend  ;  the  latter,  however,  left  the 
convent  for  Italy,  when  the  noble  Genoese  determined  to 
remain  until  this  inquiry  was  over.  There  was  something 
said  of  heavy  affairs,  which  required  that  some  explanations 
of  the  delay  should  be  sent  to  others.” 

Peterchen  again  looked  steadily  at  the  prior,  smiling,  as 
in  pity  of  his  ignorance. 

“  Look  thou,  good  prior,  much  as  I  love  thee  and  thy 
convent,  and  Melchior  von  Willading  and  his  daughter,  I 
would  have  spared  myself  this  journey  but  for  that  same 
Genoese.  Let  there  be  no  questions,  however,  between  us  ; 
the  proper  time  to  speak  will  come,  and  God  forbid  that  I 
should  be  precipitate  !  Thou  shalt  then  see  in  what  man¬ 
ner  a  bailiff  of-  the  great  canton  can  acquit  himself!  At 
present  we  will  trust  to  thy  prudence.  The  friend  hath 
gone  to  Italy  in  haste,  that  the  delay  may  not  create  sur¬ 
prise  !  Well,  each  one  to  his  humor  on  the  highway  ;  it  is 
mine  to  journey  in  honor  and  security,  though  others  may 
have  a  different  taste.  Let  there  be  little  said,  good 
Michael ;  not  so  much  as  an  imprudent  look  of  the  eye  ; 
and  now,  o’  Heaven’s  sake,  thy  glass  of  kirschwasser  !  ” 

They  were  at  the  door  of  the  refectory,  and  the  conver¬ 
sation  ceased.  On  entering,  Peterchen  found  his  friend  the 
baron,  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  and  the  chatelain  of  Sion,  a 
grave,  ponderous  dignitary  of  justice,  of  German  extraction, 
like  himself  and  the  prior,  but  whose  race,  from  a  long  resi¬ 
dence  on  the  confines  of  Italy,  had  imbibed  some  peculiari¬ 
ties  of  the  southern  character.  Sigismund  and  all  the  rest 
of  the  travellers  were  precluded  from  joining  the  repast,  to 

24 


B70 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


which  it  was  the  intention  of  the  prudent  canons  to  give  a 
semi-official  character. 

The  meeting  between  Peterchen  and  those  who  had  so 
lately  quitted  Vevey  was  not  distinguished  by  any  .vnaor- 
dinary  movements  of  courtesy;  but  that  between  the  bailiff 
and  the  chatelain,  who  represented  the  authorities  of  friendly 
and  adjoining  states,  was  marked  by  a  profusion  of  politic 
and  diplomatic  civilities.  Various  personal  and  public 
inquiries  wrere  exchanged,  each  appearing  to  strive  to  outdo 
the  other  in  manifesting  interest  in  the  smallest  details  on 
those  points  in  which  it  was  proper  for  a  stranger  to  feel  an 
interest.  Though  the  distance  between  the  two  capitals  was 
fully  fifteen  leagues,  every  foot  of  the  ground  was  travelled 
over  by  one  or  the  other  of  the  parties,  either  in  commen¬ 
dation  of  its  beauties,  or  in  questions  that  touched  its  in¬ 
terests. 

“  We  come  equally  of  Teutonic  fathers,  Herr  Chatelain,” 
concluded  the  bailiff,  as  the  whole  party  placed  themselves 
at  table,  after  the  reverences  and  homages  were  thoroughly 
exhausted,  “  though  Providence  has  cast  our  fortunes  in 
different  countries.  I  swear  to  thee,  that  the  sound  of  thy 
German  is  music  to  my  ears !  Thou  hast  wonderfully 
escaped  corruptions,  though  compelled  to  consort  so  much 
with  the  bastards  of  Romans,  Celts,  and  Burgundians,  of 
whom  thou  hast  so  many  in  this  portion  of  thy  states.  It  is 
curious  to  observe,”  —  for  Peterchen  had  a  little  of  an  anti¬ 
quarian  flavor  among  other  crude  elements  of  his  character, 
—  “  that  whenever  a  much-trodden  path  traverses  a  country, 
its  people  catch  the  blood  as  well  as  the  opinions  of  those 
who  travel  it,  after  the  manner  that  tares  are  scattered  and 
sown  by  the  passing  winds.  Here  has  the  St.  Bernard  been 
a  thoroughfare  since  the  time  of  the  Romans,  and  thou  wilt 
find  as  many  races  among  those  who  dwell  on  the  wayside, 
as  there  are  villages  between  the 'convent  and  Vevey.  It  is 
not  so  with  you  of  the  Upper  Valais,  Herr  Chatelain  ;  there 
the  pure  race  exists  as  it  came  from  the  other  side  of  the 
Rhine,  and  honored  and  preserved  may  it  continue  for 
another  thousand  years  !  ” 

There  are  few  people  so  debased  in  their  own  opinion  as 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


371 


not  to  be  proud  of  their  peculiar  origin  and  character 
The  habit  of  always  viewing  ourselves,  our  motives,  and 
even  our  conduct,  on  the  favorable  side,  is  the  parent  of 
self-esteem  ;  and  this  weakness  carried  into  communities, 
commonly  gets  to  be  the  cause  of  a  somewhat  fallacious 
gauge  of  merit  among  the  population  of  entire  countries. 
The  chatelain,  Melchior  de  Willading,  and  the  prior,  all  of 
whom  came  from  the  same  Teutonic  root,  received  the 
remark  complacently,  for  each  felt  it  an  honor  to  be  de¬ 
scended  from  such  ancestors  ;  while  the  more  polished  and 
artificial  Italian  succeeded  in  concealing  the  smile  that  on 
such  an  occasion  would  be  apt  to  play  about  the  mouth  of 
a  man  whose  parentage  ran  through  a  long  line  of  sophisti¬ 
cated  and  politic  nobles,  into  the  consuls  and  patricians  of 
Rome,  and  most  probably  through  these  again  into  the 
wily  and  ingenious  Greek,  a  root  distinguished  for  civiliza¬ 
tion  when  these  patriarchs  of  the  north  lay  buried  in  the 
depths  of  barbarism. 

This  little  display  of  national  vanity  ended,  the  discourse 
took  a  more  general  turn.  Nothing  occurred  during  the 
entertainment,  however,  to  denote  that  any  of  the  company 
bethought  him  of  the  business  on  which  they  had  met. 
But  just  as  twilight  failed,  and  the  repast  was  ended,  the 
prior  invited  his  guests  to  lend  their  attention  to  the  mat¬ 
ter  in  hand,  recalling  them  from  their  friendly  attacks,  their 
time-worn  jokes,  and  their  attenuated  logic,  in  all  of  which 
Peterchen,  Melchoir,  and  the  chatelain  had  indulged  with 
some  freedom,  to  a  question  involving  the  life  or  death  of 
at  least  one  of  their  fellow-creatures. 

The  subordinates  of  the  convent  were  occupied  during 
the  supper  with  the  arrangements  that  had  been  previously 
commanded,  and  when  Father  Michael  arose  and  intimated 
to  his  companions  that  their  presence  was  now  expected 
elsewhere,  he  led  them  to  a  place  that  had  been  completely 
prepared  for  their  reception. 


872 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Was  ever  tale 

With  such  a  gallant  modesty  rehearsed  ? 

Home. 

Purposes  of  convenience,  as  well  as  others  that  were 
naturally  connected  with  the  religious  opinions,  not  to  say 
the  superstitions  of  most  of  the  prisoners,  had  induced  the 
monks  to  select  the  chapel  of  the  convent  for  the  judgment 
hall.  This  consecrated  part  of  the  edifice  was  of  sufficient 
size  to  contain  all  who  were  accustomed  to  assemble  within 
its  walls.  It  was  decorated  in  the  manner  that  is  usual  to 
churches  of  the  Romish  persuasion,  having  its  master-altar, 
and  two  of  smaller  size  that  were  dedicated  to  esteemed 
saints.  A  large  lamp  illuminated  the  place,  though  the 
great  altar  lay  in  doubtful  light,  leaving  play  for  the  imagi¬ 
nation  to  people  and  adorn  that  part  of  the  chapel.  Within 
the  railing  of  the  choir  there  stood  a  table ;  it  held  some 
object  that  was  concealed  from  view  by  a  sweeping  pall. 
Immediately  beneath  the  lamp  was  placed  another,  which 
served  the  purposes  of  the  clavier,  who  acted  as  a  clerk  on 
this  occasion.  They  who  were  to  fill  the  offices  of  judges, 
took  their  stations  near.  A  knot  of  females  were  clustered 
within  the  shadows  of  one  of  the  side-altars,  hovering  around 
each  other  in  the  way  that  their  sensitive  sex  is  known  to 
interpose  between  the  exhibition  of  its  peculiar  weaknesses 
and  the  rude  observations  of  the  world.  Stifled  sobs  and 
convulsive  movements  occasionally  escaped  this  little  group 
of  acutely  feeling  and  warm-hearted  beings,  betraying  the 
strength  of  the  emotions  they  would  fain  conceal.  The 
canons  and  novices  were  ranged  on  one  side,  the  guides  and 
muleteers  formed  a  background  to  the  whole,  while  the 
fine  form  of  Sigismund  stood  stern  and  motionless  as  a 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


373 


statue,  on  the  steps  of  the  altar  which  was  opposite  to  the 
females.  He  watched  the  minutest  proceeding  of  the  in¬ 
vestigation  with  a  steadiness  that  was  the  result  of  a  severe 

o 

practice  in  self-command,  and  a  jealous  determination  to 
suffer  no  new  wrong  to  be  accumulated  on  the  head  of  his 
father. 

When  the  little  confusion  produced  by  the  entrance  of 
the  party  from  the  refectory  had  subsided,  the  prior  made  a 
signal  to  one  of  the  officers  of  justice.  The  man  disap¬ 
peared  and  shortly  returned  with  one  of  the  prisoners,  the 
investigation  being  intended  to  embrace  the  cases  of  all  who 
had  been  detained  by  the  prudence  of  the  monks.  Baltha¬ 
zar  (for  it  was  he)  approached  the  table  in  his  usual  meek 
manner.  His  limbs  were  unbound,  and  his  exterior  calm, 
though  the  quick,  unquiet  movements  of  his  eye,  and  the 
workings  of  his  pale  features,  whenever  a  suppressed  sob 
from  among  the  females  reached  his  ear,  betrayed  the 
inward  struggle  he  had  to  maintain,  in  order  to  preserve 
appearances.  When  he  was  confronted  with  his  examiners, 
Father  Michael  bowed  to  the  chatelain  ;  for,  though  the 
others  were  admitted  by  courtesy  to  participate  in  the  in¬ 
vestigations,  the  legal  right  to  proceed  in  an  affair  of  this 
nature  within  the  limits  of  the  Yalais,  belonged  to  this  func¬ 
tionary  alone. 

“  Thou  art  called  Balthazar  ?  ”  abruptly  commenced  the 
judge,  glancing  at  his  notes. 

The  answer  was  a  simple  inclination  of  the  body. 

“  And  thou  art  the  headsman  of  the  canton  of  Berne  ?” 

A  similar  silent  reply  was  given. 

“  The  office  is  hereditary  in  thy  family.  It  has  been  so 
for  ages  ?  ” 

Balthazar  erected  his  frame,  breathing  heavily,  like  one 
oppressed  at  the  heart,  but  who  would  bear  down  his  feel¬ 
ings  before  he  answered. 

“  Herr  Chatelain,”  he  said  with  energy,  “  by  the  judg¬ 
ment  of  God  it  has  been  so.” 

“  Honest  Balthazar,  thou  throwest  too  much  emphasis 
into  thy  words,”  interposed  the  bailiff.  “  All  that  belongs 
to  authority  is  honorable,  and  is  not  to  be  treated  as  an  evil. 


374 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Hereditaiy  claims,  when  venerable  by  time  and  use,  have  a 
double  estimation  with  the  world,  since  it  brings  the  merit 
of  the  ancestor  to  sustain  that  of  the  descendant.  Wc  have 
our  rights  of  the  burgerschaft,  and  thou  thy  rights  of  execu¬ 
tion.  The  time  has  been  when  thy  fathers  were  well  con¬ 
tent  with  their  privilege.” 

Balthazar  bowed  in  submission ;  but  he  seemed  to  think 
any  other  reply  unnecessary.  The  fingers  of  Sigismund 
writhed  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  a  groan,  which  the 
young  man  well  knew  had  been  wrested  from  the  bosom  of 
his  mother,  came  from  the  women. 

“  The  remark  of  the  worthy  and  honorable  bailiff  is  just,” 
resumed  the  Valaisan  ;  “all  that  is  of  the  state,  is  for  the 
good  of  the  state,  and  all  that  is  for  the  comfort  and  security 
of  man  is  honorable.  Be  not  ashamed,  therefore,  of  thy 
office,  Balthazar,  which,  being  necessary,  is  not  to  be  idly 
condemned  ;  but  answer  faithfully  and  with  truth  to  the 
questions  I  am  about  to  put.  Thou  hast  a  daughter  ?  ” 

“  In  that  much,  at  least,  have  I  been  blessed !  ” 

The  energy  with  which  he  spoke  caused  a  sudden  move¬ 
ment  in  the  judges.  They  looked  at  each  other  in  surprise, 
for  it  was  apparent  they  did  not  expect  these  touches  of 
human  feeling  in  a  man  who  lived,  as  it  were,  in  constant 
warfare  with  his  fellow-creatures. 

“  Thou  hast  reason,”  returned  the  chatelain,  recovering 
his  gravity  ;  “  for  she  is  said  to  be  both  dutiful  and  comely. 
Thou  wert  about  to  marry  this  daughter  ?  ” 

Balthazar  acknowledged  the  truth  of  this  by  another 
inclination. 

“  Didst  thou  ever  know  a  Vevaisan  of  the  name  of 
Jacques  Colis  ?  ” 

“  Mein  Herr,  I  did.  He  was  to  have  become  my  son.” 

The  chatelain  was  again  surprised ;  for  the  steadiness  of 
the  reply  denoted  innocence,  and  he  studied  the  countenance 
of  the  prisoner  intently.  He  found  apparent  frankness 
where  he  had  expected  to  meet  with  subterfuge,  and,  like 
all  who  have  great  acquaintance  with  crime,  his  distrust 
increased.  The  simplicity  of  one  who  really  had  nothing 
to  conceal,  unlike  that  appearance  of  firmness  which  is  as 


THE  HEADSMAN.  375 

sumed  to  affect  innocence,  set  bis  shrewdness  at  fault,  though 
familiar  with  most  of  the  expedients  of  the  guilty. 

“  This  Jacques  Colis  was  to  have  wived  thy  daughter  ?  n 
continued  the  chatelain,  growing  more  wary  as  he  thought 
he  detected  greater  evidence  of  art  in  the  accused. 

“  It  was  so  understood  between  us.” 

“  Did  he  love  thy  child  ?  ” 

The  muscles  of  Balthazar’s  mouth  played  convulsively, 
the  twitchings  of  the  lip  seeming  to  threaten  a  loss  of  self- 
command. 

“  Mein  Herr,  I  believed  it.” 

“  Yet  he  refused  to  fulfill  the  engagement  ?  ” 

“  He  did.” 

Eveu  Marguerite  was  alarmed  at  the  deep  emphasis  with 
which  this  answer  was  given,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  she  trembled  lest  the  accumulating  load  of  obloquy  had 
indeed  been  too  strong  for  her  husband’s  principles. 

“  Thou  felt  anger  at  his  conduct,  and  at  the  public  man¬ 
ner  in  which  he  disgraced  thee  and  thine  ?  ” 

“  Herr  Chatelain,  I  am  human.  When  Jacques  Colis 
repudiated  my  daughter,  he  bruised  a  tender  plant  in  the 
girl,  and  he  caused  bitterness  in  a  father’s  heart.” 

“  Thou  hast  received  instruction  superior  to  thy  condi¬ 
tion,  Balthazar  ?  ” 

“  We  are  a  race  of  executioners,  but  we  are  not  the  un¬ 
nurtured  herd  that  people  fancy.  ’Tis  the  will  of  Berne 
that  made  me  what  I  am,  and  no  desire  nor  wants  of  my 
own.” 

“  The  charge  is  honorable,  as  are  all  that  come  of  the 
state,”  repeated  the  other,  with  the  formal  readiness  in 
which  set  phrases  are  uttered  ;  “  the  charge  is  honorable 
for  one  of  thy  birth.  God  assigns  to  each,  his  station  on 
earth,  and  He  has  fixed  thy  duties.  When  Jacques  Colis 
refused  thy  daughter,  he  left  his  country  to  escape  thy  re¬ 
venge  ?  ” 

“  Were  Jacques  Colis  living  he  would  not  utter  so  foul  a 
He!” 

u  I  knew  his  honest  and  upright  nature !  ”  exclaimed 
Marguerite  with  energy.  “  God  pardon  me  that  I  ever 
doubted  it !  ” 


376 


ttik  hkaijsman. 


The  judges  turned  inquisitive  glances  towards  the  indis¬ 
tinct  cluster  of  females,  but  the  examination  did  not  the  less 
proceed. 

“  Thou  knowest,  then,  that  Jacques  Colis  is  dead  ?  ” 

“  How  can  I  doubt  it,  mein  Herr,  when  I  saw  his  bleed¬ 
ing  body  ?  ” 

“  Balthazar,  thou  seemest  disposed  to  aid  the  examina¬ 
tion,  though  with  what  views  is  better  known  to  Him  who 
sees  the  inmost  heart,  than  to  me.  I  will  come  at  once, 
therefore,  to  the  most  essential  facts.  Thou  art  a  native  and 
a  resident  of  Berne,  the  headsman  of  the  canton  —  a  credita¬ 
ble  office  in  itself,  though  the  ignorance  and  prejudices  of 
man  are  not  apt  so  to  consider  it.  Thou  wouldst  have  married 
thy  daughter  with  a  substantial  peasant  of  Vaud.  The 
intended  bridegroom  repudiated  thy  child,  in  face  of  the 
thousands  who  came  to  Vevey  to  witness  the  festivities  of 
the  abbaye  ;  he  departed  on  a  journey  to  avoid  thee,  or  his 
own  feelings,  or  rumor,  or  what  thou  wilt.  He  met  his 
death  by  murder  on  this  mountain  ;  his  body  was  discovered 
with  the  knife  in  the  recent  wound,  and  thou,  who  shouldst 
have  been  on  thy  path  homeward,  wert  fouud  passing  the 
night  near  the  murdered  man.  Thine  own  reason  will  show 
thee  the  connection  which  we  are  led  to  form  between  these 
several  events,  and  thou  art  now  required  to  explain  that 
which  to  us  seems  so  suspicious,  but  which  to  thyself  may 
be  clear.  Speak  freely,  but  speak  truth,  as  thou  reverest 
God,  and  in  thine  own  interest.” 

Balthazar  hesitated  and  appeared  to  collect  his  thoughts. 
His  head  was  lowered  in  a  thoughtful  attitude,  and  then 
looking  his  examiner  steadily  in  the  face,  he  replied.  His 
manner  was  calm,  and  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke,  if  not 
that  of  one  innocent  in  fact,  was  that  of  one  who  well  knew 
how  to  assume  the  exterior  of  that  character. 

“  Herr  Chatelain,”  he  said,  “  I  have  foreseen  the  sus¬ 
picions  that  would  be  apt  to  fasten  on  me  in  these  unhappy 
circumstances,  but,  used  to  trust  in  Providence,  I  shall 
speak  the  truth  without  fear.  Of  the  intention  of  Jacques 
Colis  to  depart  I  knew  nothing.  He  went  his  way  privately, 
and  if  you  will  do  me  the  justice  to  reflect  a  little,  it  will  be 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


377 


seen  that  I  was  the  last  man  to  whom  he  would  have  been 
likely  to  let  his  intention  be  known.  I  came  up  the  St. 
Bernard,  drawn  by  a  chain  that  your  own  heart  will  own  is 
difficult  to  break,  if  you  are  a  father.  My  daughter  was  on 
the  road  to  Italy  with  kind  and  true  friends,  who  were  not 
ashamed  to  feel  for  a  headsman’s  child,  and  who  took  her 
in  order  to  heal  the  wound  that  had  been  so  unfeelingly  in¬ 
flicted.” 

“  This  is  true  !  ”  exclaimed  the  Baron  de  Willading ; 
M  Balthazar  surely  says  naught  but  truth  here  !  ” 

u  This  is  known  and  allowed  ;  crime  is  not  always  the 
result  of  cool  determination,  but  it  comes  of  terror,  of  sud¬ 
den  thought,  the  angry  mood,  the  dire  temptation,  and  a 
fair  occasion.  Though  thou  left’st  Vevey  ignorant  of 
Jacques  Colis’  departure,  didst  thou  hear  nothing  of  his 
movements  by  the  way  ?  ” 

Balthazar  changed  color.  There  was  evidently  a  struggle 
in  his  bosom,  as  if  he  shrank  from  making  an  acknowl¬ 
edgment  that  might  militate  against  his  interests  ;  but, 
glancing  an  eye  at  the  guides,  he  recovered  his  proper  tone 
of  mind,  and  answered  firmly,  — 

“  I  did.  Pierre  Dumont  had  heard  the  tale  of  my  child’s 
disgrace,  and,  ignorant  that  I  was  the  injured  parent,  he 
•told  me  of  the  manner  in  which  the  unhappy  man  had  re¬ 
treated  from  the  mockery  of  his  companions.  I  knew, 
therefore,  that  we  were  on  the  same  path.” 

“  And  yet  thou  perseveredst  ?  ” 

“  In  what,  Herr  Chatelain  ?  Was  I  to  desert  my  daugh¬ 
ter,  because  one  who  had  already  proved  false  to  her  stood 
in  my  way  ?  ” 

“  Thou  hast  well  answered,  Balthazar,”  interrupted 
Marguerite.  “  Thou  hast  answered  as  became  thee  !  We 
are  few,  and  we  are  all  to  each  other.  Thou  wert  not  to 
forget  our  child  because  it  pleased  others  to  despise  her.” 

The-  Signor  Grimaldi  bent  towards  the  Yalaisan,  and 
whispered  near  his  ear. 

“  This  hath  the  air  of  nature,”  he  observed  ;  “  and  does 
it  not  account  for  the  appearance  of  the  father  on  the  road 
taken  by  the  murdered  man  ?  ” 


378 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  We  do  not  question  the  probability  or  justness  of  such 
a  motive,  Signore ;  but  revenge  may  have  suddenly 
mounted  to  the  height  of  ferocity  in  some  wrangle ;  one 
accustomed  to  blood  yields  easily  to  his  passions  and  his 
habits.” 

The  truth  of  these  suggestions  was  plausible  and  the 
noble  Genoese  drew  back  in  cold  disappointment.  The 
chatelain  consulted  with  those  about  him,  and  then  desired 
the  wife  to  come  forth  in  order  to  be  confronted  with  her 
husband.  Marguerite  obeyed.  Her  movement  was  slow, 
and  her  whole  manner  that  of  one  who  yielded  to  a  stern 
necessity. 

“  Thou  art  the  headsman’s  wife  ?  ” 

“  And  a  headsman’s  daughter.” 

“  Marguerite  is  a  well-disposed  and  a  sensible  woman,” 
put  in  Peterchen  ;  “  she  understands  that  an  office  under 
the  state  can  never  bring  disgrace  in  the  eyes  of  reason, 
and  wishes  no  part  of  her  history  or  origin  to  be  con¬ 
cealed.” 

The  glance  that  flashed  from  the  eye  of  Balthazar’s  wife 
was  withering ;  but  the  dogmatic  bailiff  was  by  far  too  well 
satisfied  with  his  own  wisdom  to  be  conscious  of  its  effects. 

“  And  a  headsman’s  daughter,”  continued  the  examining 
judge  ;  “  why  art  thou  here  ?  ”  * 

“  Because  I  am  a  wife  and  a  mother.  As  the  latter  I 
came  upon  the  mountain,  and  as  a  wife  I  have  mounted  to 
the  convent  to  be  present  at  this  examination.  They  will 
have  it  that  there  is  blood  upon  the  hands  of  Balthazar,  and 
I  am  here  to  repel  the  lie.” 

“  And  yet  thou  hast  not  been  slow  to  confess  thy  con¬ 
nection  with  a  race  of  executioners  !  They  who  are  accus¬ 
tomed  to  see  their  fellows  die  might  have  less  warmth  in 
meeting  a  plain  inquiry  of  justice  !  ” 

“  Herr  Chatelain,  thy  meaning  is  understood.  We  have 
been  weighed  upon  heavily  by  Providence,  but,  until  now, 
they  whom  we  have  been  made  to  serve  have  had  the 
policy  to  treat  us  with  fair  words  !  Thou  hast  spoken  of 
blood  ;  that  which  has  been  shed  by  Balthazar,  by  his,  and 
by  mine,  lies  on  the  consciences  of  those  who  commanded 


THE  HEADSMAN.  379 

it  to  be  spilt.  The  unwilling  instruments  of  thy  justice  are 
innocent  before  Gocl.” 

“  This  is  strange  language  for  people  of  thy  employment ! 
Dost  thou,  too,  Balthazar,  speak  and  think  with  thy  consort 
in  this  matter  ?  ” 

“  Nature  has  given  us  men  sterner  feelings,  mein  Herr.  I 
was  born  to  the  office  I  hold,  taught  to  believe  it  right,  if 
not  honorable,  and  I  have  struggled  hard  to  do  its  duties 
without  murmuring.  The  case  is  different  with  poor  Mar¬ 
guerite.  She  is  a  mother,  and  lives  in  her  children  ;  she 
has  seen  one  that  is  near  her  heart  publicly  scorned,  and 
she  feels  like  a  mother.” 

“  And  thou,  who  art  a  father,  what  has  been  thy  manner 
of  thinking  under  this  insult  ?  ” 

Balthazar  was  meek  by  nature,  and,  as  he  had  just  said, 
he  had  been  trained  to  the  exercise  of  his  functions  ;  but  he 
was  capable  of  profound  affections.  The  question  touched 
him  in  a  sensitive  spot,  and  he  writhed  under  his  feelings  ; 
but,  accustomed  to  command  himself  before  the  public  eye, 
and  alive  to  the  pride  of  manhood,  his  mighty  effort  to  sup¬ 
press  the  agony  that  loaded  his  heart  was  rewarded  with 
success. 

“  Sorrow  for  my  unoffending  child  ;  sorrow  for  him  who 
had  forgotteu  his  faith ;  and  sorrow  for  them  who  have  been 
at  the  root  of  this  bitter  wrong,”  was  the  answer. 

“  This  man  has  been  accustomed  to  hear  forgiveness 
preached  to  the  criminal,  and  he  turns  his  schooling  to  good 
account,”  whispered  the  wary  judge  to  those  near  him. 
“  We  must  try  his  guilt  by  other  means.  He  may  be 
readier  in  reply  than  steady  in  his  nerves.” 

Signing  to  the  assistants,  the  Valaisan  now  quietly 
awaited  the  effect  of  a  new  experiment.  The  pall  was  re¬ 
moved,  and  the  body  of  Jacques  Colis  exposed.  He  was 
seated  as  in  life,  on  the  table  in  front  of  the  grand  altar. 

“  The  innocent  have  no  dread  of  those  whose  spirits  have 
deserted  the  llesh,”  continued  the  chatelain,  “  but  God  often 
sorely  pricks  the  consciences  of  the  guilty,  when  they  are 
made  to  see  the  works  of  their  own  cruel  hands.  Approach, 
and  look  upon  the  dead,  Balthazar  ;  thou  and  thy  wife,  that 


380 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


we  may  judge  of  the  manner  in  which  ye  face  the  murdered 
and  wronged  man.” 

A  more  fruitless  experiment  could  not  well  have  been 
attempted  with  one  of  the  headsman’s  office  ;  for  long 
familiarity  with  such  sights  had  taken  off  that  edge  of  hor¬ 
ror  which  the  less  accustomed  would  be  apt  to  feel. 
Whether  it  were  owing  to  this  circumstance,  or  to  his 
innocence,  Balthazar  walked  to  the  side  of  the  body  un¬ 
shaken,  and  stood  long  regarding  the  bloodless  features  with 
unmoved  tranquillity.  His  habits  were  quiet  and  meek,  and 
little  given  to  display.  The  feelings  which  crowded  his 
mind,  therefore,  did  not  escape  him  in  words,  though  a 
gleam  of  something  like  regret  crossed  his  face.  Not  so 
with  his  companion.  Marguerite  took  the  hand  of  the  dead 
man,  and  hot  tears  began  to  follow  each  other  down  her 
cheeks,  as  she  gazed  at  his  shrunken  and  altered  linea¬ 
ments. 

“  Poor  Jacques  Colis  !  ”  she  said,  in  a  manner  to  be  heard 
by  all  present ;  “  thou  hadst  thy  faults,  like  all  born  of 
woman ;  but  thou  didst  not  merit  this  !  Little  did  the 
mother  that  bore  thee,  and  who  lived  in  thy  infant  smile  — 
she  who  fondled  thee  on  her  knee,  and  cherished  thee  in 
her  bosom,  foresee  thy  fearful  and  sudden  end  !  It  was 
happy  for  her  that  she  never  knew  the  fruit  of  all  her  love, 
and  pains,  and  care,  else  bitterly  would  she  have  mourned 
over  what  was  then  her  joy,  and  in  sorrow  would  she  have 
witnessed  thy  pleasantest  smile.  We  live  in  a  fearful  world, 
Balthazar  ;  a  world  in  which  the  wicked  triumph  !  Thy 
hand,  that  would  not  willingly  harm  the  meanest  creature, 
which  has  been  fashioned  by  the  will  of  God,  is  made  to 
take  life,  and  thy  heart  —  thy  excellent  heart  —  is  slowly 
hardening  in  the  execution  of  this  accursed  office  !  The 
judgment-seat  hath  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  corrupt  and  de¬ 
signing  ;  mercy  hath  become  the  laughing-stock  of  the 
ruthless,  and  death  is  inflicted  by  the  hand  of  him  who 
would  live  in  peace  with  his  kind.  This  cometh  of  thwart¬ 
ing  God’s  intentions  with  the  selfishness  and  designs  of  men  ! 
We  would  be  wiser  than  He  who  made  the  universe,  and  we 
betray  the  weakness  of  fools  !  Go  to  —  go  to,  ye  proud 


I 


THE  HEADSMAN.  381 

and  great  of  the  earth  —  if  we  have  taken  life,  it  hath  been 
at  your  bidding  ;  but  we  have  naught  of  this  on  our  con¬ 
sciences.  The  deed  hath  been  the  work  of  the  rapacious 
and  violent  —  it  is  no  deed  of  revenge.” 

“  In  what  manner  are  we  to  know  that  what  thou  sayest 
is  true  ?  ”  asked  the  chatelain,  who  had  advanced  near  the 
altar,  in  order  to  watch  the  effects  of  the  trial  to  which  he 
had  put  Balthazar  and  his  wife. 

“  I  am  not  surprised  at  thy  question,  Herr  Chatelain,  for 
nothing  comes  quicker  to  the  minds  of  the  honored  and 
happy  than  the  thought  of  resenting  an  evil  turn.  It  is  not 
so  with  the  despised.  Revenge  would  be  an  idle  remedy 
for  us.  Would  it  raise  us  in  men’s  esteem  ?  should  we  for¬ 
get  our  own  degraded  position  ?  should  we  be  a  whit  nearer 
respect  after  the  deed  was  done  than  we  were  before  ?  ” 

“  This  may  be  true,  but  the  angered  do  not  reason.  Thou 
art  not  suspected,  Marguerite,  except  as  having  heard  the 
truth  from  thy  husband  since  the  deed  has  been  committed, 
but  thine  own  discernment  will  show  that  naught  is  more 
probable  than  that  a  hot  contention  about  the  past  may 
have  led  Balthazar,  who  is  accustomed  to  see  blood,  into 
the  commission  of  this  act  ?  ” 

“  Here  is  thy  boasted  justice !  Thine  own  laws  are 
brought  in  support  of  thine  own  oppression.  Didst  thou 
know  how  much  pains  his  father  had  in  teaching  Balthazar 
to  strike,  how  many  long  and  anxious  visits  were  paid  be¬ 
tween  his  parent  and  mine  in  order  to  bring  up  the  youth 
in  the  way  of  his  dreadful  calling,  thou  wouldst  not  think 
him  so  apt !  God  unfitted  him  for  his  office,  as  he  has 
unfitted  many  of  higher  and  different  pretensions  for  duties 
that  have  been  cast  upon  them  in  virtue  of  their  birthrights. 
Had  it  been  I,  chatelain,  thy  suspicions  would  have  a  better 
show  of  reason.  I  am  formed  with  strong  and  quick  feel¬ 
ings,  and  reason  has  often  proved  too  weak  for  passion, 
though  the  rebuke  that  has  been  daily  received  throughout 
a  life  hath  long  since  tamed  all  of  pride  that  ever  dwelt  in 
me.” 

“  Thou  hast  a  daughter  present  ?  ” 

Marguerite  pointed  to  the  group  which  held  her  child. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


382 

“  The  trial  is  severe,”  said  the  judge,  who  began  to  feel 
compunctions  that  were  rare  to  one  of  his  habits,  “  but  it  is 
as  necessary  to  your  own  future  peace,  as  it  is  to  justice 
itself,  that  the  truth  should  be  known.  I  am  compelled  to 
order  thy  daughter  to  advance  to  the  body.” 

Marguerite  received  this  unexpected  command  with  cold, 
womanly  reserve.  Too  much  wounded  to  complain,  but 
trembling  for  the  conduct  of  her  child,  she  went  to  the 
cluster  of  females,  pressed  Christine  to  her  heart,  and  led 
her  silently  forward.  She  presented  her  to  the  chatelain, 
with  a  dignity  so  calm  and  quiet,  that  the  latter  found  it 
oppressive  ! 

“  This  is  Balthazar’s  child,”  she  said.  Then  folding  her 
arms,  she  retired  herself  a  step,  an  attentive  observer  of 
what  passed. 

The  judge  regarded  the  sweet,  pallid  face  of  the  trem¬ 
bling  girl  with  an  interest  he  had  seldom  felt  for  any  who  had 
come  before  him  in  the  discharge  of  his  unbending  duties. 
Pie  spoke  to  her  kindly,  even  encouragingly,  placing  him¬ 
self  intentionally  between  her  and  the  dead,  momentarily 
hiding  the  appalling  spectacle  from  her  view,  that  she  might 
have  time  to  summon  her  courage.  Marguerite  blessed  him 
in  her  heart  for  this  small  grace,  and  was  better  satisfied. 

“  Thou  wert  betrothed  to  Jacques  Colis  ?  ”  demanded  the 
chatelain,  using  a  gentleness  of  voice  that  was  singularly  in 
contrast  with  his  former  stern  interrogatories. 

The  utmost  that  Christine  could  reply  was  to  bow  her 
head. 

“  Thy  nuptials  were  to  take  place  at  the  late  meeting  of 
the  Abbaye  des  Vignerons  —  it  is  our  unpleasant  duty  to 
wound  where  we  could  wish  to  heal  —  but  thy  betrothed 
refused  to  redeem  his  pledge  ?  ” 

“  The  heart  is  weak,  and  sometimes  shrinks  from  its  own 
good  purposes,”  murmured  Christine.  “  He  was  but  human, 
and  he  could  not  withstand  the  sneers  of  all  about  him.” 

The  chatelain  was  so  entranced  by  her  gentle  and  sweet 
manner  that  he  leaned  forward  to  listen,  lest  a  syllable  of 
what  she  whispered  might  escape  his  ears. 

“  Thou  acquittest,  then,  Jacques  Colis  of  any  false  inten¬ 
tion  ?  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


383 


u  He  was  less  strong  than  he  believed  himself,  mein  Herr; 
he  was  not  equal  to  sharing  our  disgrace,  which  was  put 
rudely  and  too  strongly  before  him.” 

“  Thou  hadst  consented  freely  to  the  marriage  thyself, 
and  wert  well  disposed  to  become  his  wife  ?  ” 

The  imploring  look  and  heaving  respiration  of  Christine 
were  lost  on  the  blunted  sensibilities  of  a  criminal  judge. 

“  Was  the  youth  dear  to  thee  ?  ”  he  repeated,  without 
perceiving  the  wound  he  was  inflicting  on  female  reserve. 

Christine  shuddered.  She  was  not  accustomed  to  have 
affections  which  she  considered  the  most  sacred  of  her  short 
and  innocent  existence  so  rudely  probed  ;  but,  believing  that 
the  safety  of  her  father  depended  on  her  frankness  and  sin¬ 
cerity,  by  an  effort  that  was  nearly  superhuman,  she  was 
enabled  to  reply.  The  bright  glow  that  suffused  her  face, 
however,  proclaimed  the  power  of  that  sentiment  which  be¬ 
comes  instinctive  to  her  sex,  arraying  her  features  in  the 
lustre  of  maiden  shame. 

“I  was  little  used  to  hear  words  of  praise,  Herr  Chate- 
lain,  —  and  they  are  so  soothing  to  the  ears  of  the  despised! 
I  felt  as  a  girl  acknowledges  the  preference  of  a  youth  who 
is  not  disagreeable  to  her.  I  thought  he  loved  me — and 
—  and  what  would  you  more,  mein  Herr  ?  ” 

“  None  could  hate  thee,  innocent  and  abused  child !  ” 
murmured  the  Signor  Grimaldi. 

“  You  forget  that  I  am  Balthazar’s  daughter,  mein  Herr ; 
none  of  our  race  are  viewed  with  favor.” 

“  Thou,  at  least,  must  be  an  exception  !  ” 

“  Leaving  this  aside,”  continued  the  chatelain,  “  I  would 
know  if  thy  parents  showed  resentment  at  the  misconduct 
of  thy  betrothed  ;  whether  aught  was  said  in  thy  presence, 
that  can  throw  light  on  this  unhappy  affair  ?  ” 

The  officer  of  the  Valais  turned  his  head  aside,  for  he  met 
the  surprised  and  displeased  glance  of  the  Genoese,  whose 
eye  expressed  a  gentleman’s  opinion  at  nearing  a  child  thus 
questioned  in  a  matter  that  so  nearly  touched  her  father’s 
life.  But  the  look  and  the  improper  character  of  the  exam¬ 
ination  escaped  the  notice  of  Christine.  She  relied  with 
filial  confidence  on  the  innocence  of  the  author  of  her  being, 


384 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


and,  so  far  from  being  shocked,  she  rejoiced  with  the  sim¬ 
plicity  and  confidence  of  the  undesigning,  at  being  permitted 
to  say  anything  that  might  vindicate  him  in  the  eyes  of  his 
judges. 

“  Herr  Chatelain,”  she  answered  eagerly,  the  blood  that 
had  mounted  to  her  cheeks  from  female  weakness,  deepen¬ 
ing  to,  and  warming  her  very  temples  with  a  holier  senti¬ 
ment,  “  Herr  Chatelain,  we  wept  together  when  alone  ;  we 
prayed  for  our  enemies  as  for  ourselves,  but  naught  was 
said  to  the  prejudice  of  poor  Jacques  —  no,  not  a  whisper.” 

“  Wept  and  prayed  !  ”  repeated  the  judge,  looking  from 
the  child  to  the  father,  in  the  manner  of  a  man  that  fancied 
he  did  not  hear  aright. 

“  I  said  both,  mein  Herr  ;  if  the  former  was  a  weakness, 
the  latter  was  a  duty.” 

“  This  is  strange  language  in  the  mouth  of  a  headsman’s 
child  !  ” 

Christine  appeared  at  a  loss,  for  a  moment,  to  compre¬ 
hend  his  meaning  ;  but,  passing  a  hand  across  her  fair  brow, 
she  continued. 

“  I  think  I  understand  what  you  would  say,  mein  Herr,” 
she  said  ;  “  the  world  believes  us  to  be  without  feeling  and 
without  hope.  We  are  what  we  seem  in  the  eyes  of  others, 
because  the  law  makes  it  so,  but  we  are  in  our  hearts  like 
all  around  us,  Herr  Chatelain  —  with  this  difference,  that, 
feeling  our  abasement  among  men,  we  lean  more  closely 
and  more  affectionately  on  God.  You  may  condemn  us  to 
do  your  offices  and  to  bear  your  dislike,  but  you  cannot  rob 
us  of  our  trust  in  the  justice  of  Heaven.  In  that,  at  least, 
we  are  the  equals  of  the  proudest  baron  in  the  cantons  !  ” 

“  The  examination  had  better  rest  here,”  said  the  prior, 
advancing  with  glistening  eyes  to  interpose  between  the 
maiden  and  her  interrogator.  “  Thou  knowest,  Herr  Bour- 
rit,  that  we  have  other  prisoners.” 

The  chatelain,  who  felt  his  own  practiced  obduracy  of 
feeling  strangely  giving  way  before  the  innocent  and  guile¬ 
less  faith  of  Christine,  was  not  unwilling  himself  to  change 
the  direction  of  the  inquiries.  The  family  of  Balthazar  was 
directed  to  retire,  and  the  attendants  were  commanded  to 
bring  forward  Pippo  and  Conrad. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


385 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

And  when  thou  thus 

Shalt  stand  impleaded  at  the  high  tribunal 
Of  hoodwinked  J ustice,  who  shall  tell  thy  audit  ? 

Cotton. 

The  buffoon  and  the  pilgrim,  though  of  a  general  appear¬ 
ance  likely  to  excite  distrust,  presented  themselves  with  the 
confidence  and  composure  of  innocence.  Their  examination 
was  short,  for  the  account  they  gave  of  their  movements 
was  clear  and  connected.  Circumstances  that  were  known 
to  the  monks,  too,  greatly  aided  in  producing  a  conviction 
that  they  could  have  had  no  agency  in  the  murder.  They 
had  left  the  valley  below  some  hours  before  the  arrival  of 
Jacques  Colis,  and  they  reached  the  convent,  weary  and 
foot-sore,  as  was  usual  with  all  who  ascended  that  long  and 
toilsome  path,  shortly  after  the  commencement  of  the  storm. 
Measures  had  been  taken  by  the  local  authorities,  during 
the  time  lost  in  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  bailiff  and  the 
chatelain,  to  ascertain  all  the  minute  facts  which  it  was  sup¬ 
posed  would  be  useful  in  ferreting  out  the  truth  ;  and  the 
results  of  these  inquiries  had  also  been  favorable  to  these 
itinerants,  whose  habits  of  vagabondism  might  otherwise 
very  justly  have  brought  them  within  the  pale  of  suspicion. 

The  flippant  Pippo  was  the  principal  speaker  in  the  short 
investigation,  and  his  answers  were  given  with  a  ready 
frankness,  that,  under  the  circumstances,  did  him  and  his 
companion  infinite  service.  The  buffoon,  though  accus¬ 
tomed  to  deception  and  frauds,  had  sufficient  mother- wit  to 
comprehend  the  critical  position  in  which  he  was  now 
placed,  and  that  it  was  wiser  to  be  sincere,  than  to  attempt 
effecting  his  ends  by  any  of  the  usual  means  of  prevarica¬ 
tion.  He  answered  the  judge,  therefore,  with  a  simplicity 
which  his  ordinary  pursuits  would  not  have  given  reason  to 
25 


386 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


expect,  and  apparently  with  some  touches  of  feeling  that 
did  credit  to  his  heart. 

“  This  frankness  is  thy  friend,”  added  the  chatelain, 
after  he  had  nearly  exhausted  his  questions,  the  answers 
having  convinced  him  that  there  was  no  ground  of  suspi¬ 
cion,  beyond  the  adventitious  circumstance  of  their  having 
been  travellers  on  the  same  road  as  the  deceased  ;  “  it  has 
done  much  towards  convincing  me  of  thy  innocence,  and 
it  is  in  general  the  best  shield  for  those  who  have  com¬ 
mitted  no  crime.  I  only  marvel  that  one  of  thy  habits 
should  have  had  the  sense  to  discover  it !  ” 

“  Suffer  me  to  tell  you,  Signor  Castellano,  or  Podesta, 
whichever  may  be  your  eccellenza’s  proper  title,  that  you 
have  not  given  Pippo  credit  for  the  wit  he  really  hath. 
It  is  true  I  live  by  throwing  dust  into  men’s  eyes,  and 
by  making  others  think  the  wrong  is  the  right ;  but 
mother  Nature  has  given  us  all  an  insight  into  our  own 
interests,  and  mine  is  quite  clear  enough  to  let  me  know 
when  the  true  is  better  than  the  false.” 

“  Happy  would  it  be  if  all  had  the  same  faculty  and  the 
same  disposition  to  put  it  in  use.” 

“  I  shall  not  presume  to  teach  one  as  wise  and  as  ex¬ 
perienced  as  yourself,  eccellenza,  but  if  an  humble  man 
might  speak  freely  in  this  honorable  presence,  he  would 
say  that  it  is  not  common  to  meet  with  a  fact  without  finding 
it  a  very  near  neighbor  to  a  lie.  They  pass  for  the  wisest 
and  the  most  virtuous  who  best  know  how  to  mix  the  two  so 
artfully  together,  that,  like  the  sweets  we  put  upon  heal¬ 
ing  bitters,  the  palatable  may  make  the  useful  go  down. 
Such  at  least  is  the  opinion  of  a  poor  street  buffoon,  who 
has  no  better  claim  to  merit  than  having  learned  his  art 
on  the  Mole  and  in  the  Toledo  of  Bellissima  Napoli, 
which,  as  everybody  knows,  is  a  bit  of  heaven  fallen  upon 
earth  !  ” 

The  fervor  with  which  Pippo  uttered  the  customary 
eulogium  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Parthenope,  was  so 
natural  and  characteristic  as  to  excite  a  smile  in  the  judge, 
in  spite  of  the  solemn  duty  in  which  he  was  engaged,  and 
it  was  believed  to  be  an  additional  proof  of  the  speaker’s 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


387 


innocence.  The  chatelain  then  slowly  recapitulated  the 
history  of  the  buffoon  and  the  pilgrim  to  his  companions, 
the  purport  of  which  was  as  follows. 

Pippo  naively  admitted  the  debauch  at  Vevey,  implicat¬ 
ing  the  festivities  of  the  day,  and  the  known  frailty  of 
the  flesh,  as  the  two  influencing  causes.  Conrad,  how¬ 
ever,  stood  upon  the  purity  of  his  life,  and  the  sacred 
character  of  his  calling,  justifying  the  company  he  kept 
on  the  respectable  plea  of  necessity,  and  on  that  of  the 
mortifications  to  which  a  pilgrimage  should,  of  right,  sub¬ 
ject  him  who  undertakes  it.  They  had  quitted  Vaud  to¬ 
gether  as  early  as  the  evening  of  the  day  of  the  abbaye’s 
ceremonies,  and,  from  that  time  to  the  moment  of  their 
arrival  at  the  convent,  had  made  a  diligent  use  of  their 
legs,  in  order  to  cross  the  Col  before  the  snows  should  set 
in  and  render  the  passage  dangerous.  They  had  been 
seen  at  Martigny,  at  Liddes,  and  St.  Pierre,  alone,  and  at 
proper  hours,  making  the  best  of  their  way  towards  the 
hospice  ;  and,  though  of  necessity  their  progress  and  actions 
for  several  hours  after  quitting  the  latter  place,  were  not 
brought  within  the  observation  of  any  but  of  that  all-seeing 
eye  which  commands  a  view  of  the  recesses  of  the  Alps 
equally  with  those  of  more  frequented  spots,  their  arrival 
at  the  abode  of  the  monks  was  sufficiently  seasonable  to 
give  reason  to  believe  that  no  portion  of  the  intervening 
time  had  been  wasted  by  the  way.  Thus  far,  their 
account  of  themselves  and  their  movements  was  distinct, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  not  a  single  fact  to 
implicate  either,  beyond  the  suspicion  that  was  more  or 
less  common  to  all  who  happened  to  be  on  the  mountain 
at  the  moment  the  crime  was  committed. 

“  The  innocence  of  these  two  men  would  seem  so  clear, 
and  their  readiness  to  appear  and  answer  to  our  questions 
is  so  much  in  their  favor,”  observed  the  experienced  chate¬ 
lain,  “  that  I  do  not  deem  it  just  to  detain  them  longer. 
The  pilgrim,  in  particular,  has  a  heavy  trust ;  I  understand 
he  performs  his  penance  as  much  for  others  as  for  himself, 
and  it  is  scarce  decent  in  us,  who  are  believers  and  servants 
of  the  Church,  to  place  obstacles  in  his  path.  I  will  sug- 


388 


'II IK  HEADSMAN. 


gest  the  expediency,  therefore,  of  giving  him  at  least  per¬ 
mission  to  depart.” 

“  As  vve  are  near  the  end  of  the  inquiries,”  interrupted 
the  Signor  Grimaldi,  gravely,  “  [  would  suggest,  with  due 
deference  to  a  better  opinion  and  more  experience,  the  pro¬ 
priety  that  all  should  remain,  ourselves  included,  until  we 
have  come  to  a  better  understanding  of  the  truth.” 

Both  Pippo  and  the  pilgrim  met  this  suggestion  with 
ready  declarations  of  their  willingness  to  continue  at  the 
convent  until  the  following  morning.  This  little  concession, 
however,  had  no  great  merit,  for  the  lateness  of  the  hour 
rendered  it  imprudent  to  depart  immediately  ;  and  the 
affair  was  finally  settled  by  ordering  them  to  retire,  it  being 
understood  that  unless  previously  called  for,  they  might 
depart  with  the  reappearance  of  the  dawn.  Maso  was  the 
next  and  last  to  he  examined. 

II  Maledetto  presented  himself  with  perfect  steadiness  of 
nerve.  He  was  accompanied  by  Nettuno,  the  mastiffs  of 
the  convent  having  been  kenneled  for  the  night.  It  had 
been  the  habit  of  the  dogs  of  late  to  stray  among  the  rocks 
by  day,  and  to  return  to  the  convent  in  the  evening  in 
quest  of  food,  the  sterile  St.  Bernard  possessing  nothing 
whatever  for  the  support  of  man  or  beast,  except  that 
which  came  from  the  liberality  of  the  monks,  every  animal 
but  the  chamois  and  the  lammergeyer  refusing  to  ascend  so 
near  the  region  of  eternal  snows.  In  his  master,  however, 
Nettuno  found  a  steady  friend,  never  failing  to  receive  all 
that  was  necessary  to  his  wants  from  the  portion  of  Maso 
himself ;  for  the  faithful  beast  was  admitted  at  his  periodical 
visits  to  the  temporary  prison  in  which  the  latter  was  con¬ 
fined. 

The  chatelain  waited  a  moment  for  the  little  stir  occa¬ 
sioned  by  the  entrance  of  the  prisoner  to  subside,  when  he 
pursued  the  inquiry. 

“  Thou  art  a  Genoese  of  the  name  of  Thomaso  Santi  ?  ” 
he  asked,  consulting  his  notes. 

“  By  this  name,  Signore,  am  I  generally  known.” 

u  Thou  art  a  mariner,  and  it  is  said  one  of  courage  and 
skill.  Why  hast  thou  given  thyself  the  ungracious  appella¬ 
tion  of  II  Maledetto  ?  ” 


THE  HEADSMAN.  389 


“Men  call  me  thus.  It  is  a  misfortune,  not  a  crime,  to 
be  accursed.” 

“  He  that  is  so  read)*  to  abuse  his  own  fortunes,  should 
not  be  surprised  if  others  are  led  to  think  he  merits  Ids 
fate.  We  have  some  accounts  of  thee  in  Valais ;  ’tis  said 
thou  art  a  freetrader  ?  ” 

“  The  fact  can  little  concern  Valais  or  her  government, 
since  all  come  and  go  unquestioned  in  this  free  land.” 

“  It  is  true,  we  do  not  imitate  our  neighbors  in  all  their 
policy  ;  neither  do  we  like  to  see  so  often  those  who  set  at 
naught  the  laws  of  friendly  states.  Why  art  thou  journey¬ 
ing  on  this  road  ?  ” 

“  Signore,  if  I  am  what  you  say,  the  reason  of  my  being 
here  is  sufficiently  plain.  It  is  probably  because  the  Lom¬ 
bard  and  the  Piedmontese  are  more  exacting  of  the  stranger 


than  you  of  the  mountains.” 

u  Your  effects  have  been  examined,  and  they  offer  noth¬ 
ing  to  support  the  suspicion.  By  all  appearances,  Maso, 
thou  hast  not  much  of  the  goods  of  life  to  boast  of';  but  in 
spite  of  this,  thy  reputation  clings  to  thee.” 

“  Aye,  Signore,  this  is  much  after  the  world's  humor. 
Let  it  fancy  any  quality  in  a  man,  and  he  is  sure  to  get 
more  than  his  share  of  the  same,  whether  it  be  for  or 
against  his  interest.  The  rich  man’s  florin  is  quickly  coined 
into  a  sequin  by  vulgar  tongues,  while  the  poor  man  is 
lucky  if  he  can  get  the  change  of  a  silver  mark  for  an  ounce 
of  the  better  metal.  Even  poor  Nettuno  finds  it  difficult  to 
get  a  living  here  at  the  convent,  because  some  difference  in 
coat  and  instinct  has  given  him  a  bad  name  among  the  dogs 
of  St.  Bernard  !  ” 

“Thy  answer  agrees  with  thy  character;  thou  art  said  to 
have  more  wit  than  honesty,  Maso,  and  thou  art  described 
as  one  that  can  form  a  desperate  resolution,  and  act  up  to 
its  decision  at  need  ?  ” 

“  I  am  as  Heaven  willed  at  the  birth,  Signor  Castellano, 
and  as  the  chances  of  a  pretty  busy  life  have  served  to  give 
the  work  its  finish.  That  I  am  not  wanting  in  manly  qual¬ 
ities  on  occasion,  perhaps  these  noble  travellers  will  be  will¬ 
ing  to  testify,  in  consideration  of  some  activity  that  1  may 


390 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


have  shown  on  the  Leman,  during  their  late  passage  of  that 
treacherous  water.” 

Though  this  was  said  carelessly,  the  appeal  to  the  recol¬ 
lection  and  gratitude  of  those  he  had  served  was  too  direct 
to  be  overlooked.  Melchior  de  Willading,  the  pious  clavier, 
and  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  all  testified  in  behalf  of  the  pris¬ 
oner,  freely  admitting  that,  without  his  coolness  and  skill, 
the  Winkelried  and  all  she  held  would  irretrievably  have 
been  lost.  Sigismund  was  not  content  with  so  cold  a 
demonstration  of  his  feelings.  He  owed  not  only  the  lives 
of  his  father  and  himself  to  the  courage  of  Maso,  but  that 
of  one  dearer  than  all ;  one  whose  preservation,  to  his 
youthful  imagination,  seemed  a  service  that  might  nearly 
atone  for  any  crime,  and  his  gratitude  was  in  proportion. 

“  I  will  testify  more  strongly  to  thy  merit,  Maso,  in  face 
of  this  or  any  tribunal,”  he  said,  grasping  the  hand  of  the 
Italian.  “  One  who  showed  so  much  bravery  and  so  strong 
love  for  his  fellows,  would  be  little  likely  to  take  life  clan¬ 
destinely  and  like  a  coward.  Thou  mayest  count  on  my 
testimony  in  this  strait  —  if  thou  art  guilty  of  this  crime, 
who  can  hope  to  be  innocent  ?  ” 

Maso  returned  the  friendly  grasp  till  their  fingers  seemed 
to  grow  into  each  other.  Ilis  eye,  too,  showed  he  was  not 
without  wholesome  native  sympathies,  though  education  and 
his  habits  might  have  warped  them  from  their  true  direction. 
A  tear,  in  spite  of  his  effort  to  suppress  the  weakness, 
started  from  its  fountain,  rolling  down  his  sunburnt  cheek 
like  a  solitary  rivulet  trickling  through  a  barren  and 
rugged  waste. 

“  This  is  frank,  and  as  becomes  a  soldier,  Signore,”  he 
said,  “  and  I  receive  it  as  it  is  given,  in  kindness  and  love. 
But  we  will  not  lay  more  stress  upon  the  affair  of  the  lake 
than  it  deserves.  This  keen-sighted  cliatelain  need  not  be 
told  that  I  could  not  be  of  use  in  saving  your  lives,  with¬ 
out  saving  my  own  ;  and,  unless  I  much  mistake  the  mean¬ 
ing  of  his  eye,  he  is  about  to  say  that  we  are  fashioned  like 
this  wild  country  in  which  chance  has  brought  us  together, 
with  our  spots  of  generous  fertility  miugled  with  much  un¬ 
fruitful  rock,  and  that  he  who  does  a  good  act  to-day,  may 
forget  himself  by  doing  an  evil  turn  to-morrow.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


391 


“  Thou  givest  reason  to  all  who  hear  thee,  to  mourn  that 
thy  career  has  not  been  more  profitable  to  thyself  and  the 
public,”  answered  the  judge.  a  One  who  can  reason  so  well, 
and  who  hath  this  clear  insight  into  his  own  disposition, 
must  err  less  from  ignorance  than  wantonness  !  ” 

“  There  you  do  me  injustice,  Signor  Castellano,  and  the 
laws  more  credit  than  they  deserve.  I  shall  not  deny  that 
justice  —  or  what  is  called  justice  —  and  I  have  some  ac¬ 
quaintance.  I  have  been  the  tenant  of  many  prisons  before 
this  which  has  been  furnished  by  the  holy  canons,  and  I 
have  seen  every  stage  of  the  rogue’s  progress,  from  him 
who  is  startled  by  his  first  crime,  dreaming  heavy  dreams, 
and  fancying  each  stone  in  his  cell  has  an  eye  to  reproach 
him,  to  him  who  no  sooner  does  a  wrong  than  it  is  for¬ 
gotten  in  the  wish  to  find  the  means  of  committing  another, 
and  I  call  Heaven  as  a  witness,  that  more  is  done  to  help 
along  the  scholar  in  his  study  of  vice,  by  those  who  are 
styled  the  ministers  of  justice,  than  by  his  own  natural 
frailties,  the  wants  of  his  habits,  or  the  strength  of  his  pas¬ 
sions.  Let  the  judge  feel  a  father’s  mildness,  the  laws 
possess  that  pure  justice  which  is  of  things  that  are  not 
perverted,  and  society  become  what  it  claims  to  be,  a  com¬ 
munity  of  mutual  support,  and  my  life  on  it,  chatelain,  thy 
functions  will  be  lessened  of  most  of  their  weight  and  of  all 
their  oppression.” 

“  This  language  is  bold,  and  without  an  object.  Explain 
the  manner  of  thy  quitting  Vevey,  Maso,  the  road  thou  hast 
travelled,  the  hours  of  thy  passages  by  the  different  villages, 
and  the  reason  why  thou  wert  discovered  near  the  Refuge, 
alone,  and  why  thou  quittedst  the  companions  with  whom 
thou  hadst  passed  the  night  so  early  and  so  clandestinely.” 

The  Italian  listened  attentively  to  these  several  interroga¬ 
tories  ;  when  they  were  all  put,  he  gravely  and  calmly  set 
about  furnishing  his  answers.  The  history  of  his  departure 
from  Vevey,  his  appearance  at  St.  Maurice,  Martigny, 
Liddes,  and  St.  Pierre,  was  distinctly  given,  and  it  was  in 
perfect  accordance  with  the  private  information  that  had 
been  gleaned  by  the  authorities.  He  had  passed  the  last 
habitation  on  the  mountain,  on  foot  and  alone,  about  an 


892 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


hour  before  the  solitary  horseman,  who  was  now  known  to 
be  Jacques  Colis,  was  seen  to  proceed  in  the  same  direction, 
and  he  admitted  that  he  was  overtaken  by  the  latter,  just  as 
he  reached  the  upper  extremity  of  the  plain  beneath  Velan, 
where  they  were  seen  in  company,  though  at  a  considerable 
distance,  and  by  a  doubtful  light,  by  the  travellers  who 
were  conducted  by  Pierre. 

Thus  far  the  account  given  of  himself  by  Maso,  was  in 
perfect  conformity  with  what  was  already  known  to  the 
chatelain  ;  but,  after  turning  the  rock  already  mentioned  in 
a  previous  chapter,  all  was  buried  in  mystery,  with  the 
exception  of  the  incidents  that  have  been  regularly  related 
in  the  narrative.  The  Italian,  in  his  further  explanations, 
added  that  he  soon  parted  with  his  companion,  who,  impa¬ 
tient  of  delay,  and  desirous  of  reaching  the  convent  before 
night,  had  urged  his  beast  to  greater  speed,  while  he  him¬ 
self  had  turned  a  little  aside  from  the  path  to  rest  himself, 
and  to  make  a  few  preparations  that  he  had  deemed  neces¬ 
sary  before  going  directly  to  the  convent. 

The  whole  of  this  short  history  was  delivered  with  a 
composure  as  great  as  that  which  had  just  been  displayed 
by  Pippo  and  the  pilgrim,  and  it  was  impossible  for  any 
present  to  detect  the  slightest  improbability  or  contradiction 
in  the  tale.  The  meeting  with  the  other  travellers  in  the 
storm  Maso  ascribed  to  the  fact  of  their  having  passed  him 
while  he  was  stationary,  and  to  his  greater  speed  when  in 
motion,  two  circumstances  that  were  quite  as  likely  to  be 
true  as  all  the  rest  of  the  account.  He  had  left  the  Refuge 
at  the  first  glimpse  of  dawn,  because  he  was  behind  his 
time,  and  it  had  been  his  intention  to  descend  to  Aoste  that 
night,  an  exertion  that  was  necessary  in  order  to  repair  the 
loss. 

“  This  may  be  true,”  resumed  the  judge  ;  “  but  how  dost 
thou  account  for  thy  poverty  ?  In  searching  thy  effects, 
thou  art  found  to  be  in  a  condition  little  better  than  that  of 
a  mendicant.  Even  thy  purse  is  empty,  though  known  to 
be  a  successful  and  desperate  trifler  with  the  revenue  in  all 
those  states  where  the  entrance  duty  is  enforced.” 

“  He  that  plays  deepest,  Signore,  is  most  likely  to  be 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


393 


stripped  of  his  means.  What  is  there  new  or  unlooked-for 
in  the  fact  that  a  dealer  in  the  contraband  should  lose  his 
venture  ?” 

“  This  is  more  plausible  than  convincing.  Thou  art  sig¬ 
naled  as  being  accustomed  to  transport  articles  of  the 
jewelers  from  Geneva  into  the  adjoining  states,  and  thou 
art  known  to  come  from  the  headquarters  of  these  artisans. 
Thy  losses  must  have  been  unusual,  to  have  left  thee  so 
naked.  I  much  fear  that  a  bootless  speculation  in  thy  usual 
trade  has  driven  thee  to  repair  the  loss  by  the  murder  of 
this  unhappy  man,  who  left  his  home  well  supplied  with 
gold,  and,  as  it  would  seem,  with  a  valuable  store  of  jewelry 
too.  The  particulars  are  especially  mentioned  in  this 
written  account  of  his  effects,  which  the  honorable  bailiff 
bringeth  from  his  friends.” 

Maso  mused  silently  and  in  deep  abstraction,  fie  then 
desired  that  the  chapel  might  be  cleared  of  all  but  the 
travellers  of  condition,  the  monks,  and  his  judges.  The 
request  was  granted  ;  for  it  was  expected  that  he  was  about 
to  make  an  important  confession,  as  indeed,  in  a  certain 
degree,  proved  to  be  the  fact. 

u  Should  I  clear  myself  of  the  charge  of  poverty,  Signor 
Castellano,”  he  demanded,  when  all  the  inferiors  had  left 
the  place,  “  shall  I  stand  acquitted  in  your  eyes  of  the 
charge  of  murder  ?  ” 

“  Surely  not ;  still  thou  wilt  have  removed  one  of  the 
principal  grounds  of  temptation,  and  in  that  thou  wilt  be 
greatly  the  gainer,  for  we  know  that  Jacques  Colis  hath 
been  robbed  as  well  as  slain.” 

Maso  appeared  to  deliberate  again,  as  a  man  is  apt  to 
pause  before  he  takes  a  step  that  may  materially  affect  his 
interests.  But  suddenly  deciding,  like  a  man  of  prompt 
opinions,  he  called  to  Nettuno,  and,  seating  himself  on  the 
steps  of  one  of  the  side-altars,  he  proceeded  to  make  his 
revelation  with  great  method  and  coolness.  Removing 
some  of  the  long,  shaggy  hair  of  the  dog,  II  Maledetto 
showed  the  attentive  and  curious  spectators  that  a  belt  of 
leather  had  been  ingeniously  placed  about  the  body  of  the 
animal,  next  its  skin.  It  was  so  concealed  as  to  be  quite 


394 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


hid  from  the  view  of  those  who  did  not  make  particular 
search,  a  process  that  Nettuno,  judging  by  the  scowling 
looks  he  threw  at  most  present,  and  the  manner  in  which 
he  showed  his  teeth,  would  not  be  likely  to  permit  to  a 
stranger.  The  belt  was  opened,  and  Maso  laid  a  glittering 
necklace  of  precious  stones,  in  which  rubies  and  emeralds 
vied  with  other  gems  of  price,  with  some  of  a  dealer’s 
coquetry,  under  the  strong  light  of  the  lamp. 

“  There  you  see  the  fruits  of  a  life  of  hazards  and  hard¬ 
ships,  Signor  Chatelain,”  he  said  ;  “  if  my  purse  is  empty, 
it  is  because  the  Jewish  Calvinists  of  Geneva  have  taken 
the  last  Hard  in  payment  of  the  jewels.” 

“  This  is  an  ornament  of  rare  beauty  and  exceeding 
value,  to  be  seen  in  the  possession  of  one  of  thy  appearance 
and  habits,  Maso  !  ”  exclaimed  the  frugal  Valaisan. 

“  Signore,  its  cost  was  a  hundred  doppie  of  pure  gold  and 
full  weight,  and  it  is  contracted  for  with  a  young  noble  of 
Milano,  who  hopes  to  win  his  mistress  by  the  present,  for  a 
profit  of  fifty.  Affairs  were  getting  low  with  me  in  conse¬ 
quence  of  sundry  seizures  and  a  total  wreck,  and  I  took  the 
adventure  with  the  hope  of  sudden  and  great  gain.  As 
there  is  nothing  against  the  laws  of  Valais  in  the  matter,  I 
trust  to  stand  acquitted,  chatelain,  for  my  frankness.  One 
who  was  master  of  this  would  be  little  likely  to  shed  blood 
for  the  trifle  that  would  be  found  on  the  person  of  Jacques 
Colis.” 

“  Thou  hast  more,”  observed  the  judge,  signing  with  his 
hand  as  he  spoke ;  “  let  us  see  all  thou  hast.” 

“  Not  a  brooch,  or  so  much  as  a  worthless  garnet.” 

“  Nay,  I  see  the  belt  which  contains  them  among  the 
hairs  of  the  dog.” 

Maso  either  felt  or  feigned  a  well-acted  surprise.  Net¬ 
tuno  had  been  placed  in  a  convenient  attitude  for  his  master 
to  unloosen  the  belt,  and,  as  it  was  the  intention  of  the 
latter  to  replace  it,  the  animal  still  lay  quietly  in  the  same 
position,  a  circumstance  which  displaced  his  shaggy  coat, 
and  allowed  the  chatelain  to  detect  the  object  to  which  he 
had  just  alluded. 

“  Signore,”  said  the  smuggler,  changing  color,  but  en- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


395 


deavoring  to  speak  lightly  of  a  discovery  which  all  the 
others  present  evidently  considered  to  be  grave,  “  it  would 
seem  that  the  dog,  accustomed  to  do  these  little  offices  in 
behalf  of  his  master,  has  been  tempted  by  success  to  under¬ 
take  a  speculation  on  his  own  account.  By  my  patron 
saint  and  the  Virgin  !  I  know  nothing  of  this  second  ad¬ 
venture.” 

“  Trifle  not,  but  undo  the  belt,  lest  I  have  the  beast 
muzzled,  that  it  may  be  performed  by  others,”  sternly  com¬ 
manded  the  chatelain. 

The  Italian  complied,  though  with  an  ill  grace  that  was 
much  too  apparent  for  his  own  interest.  Having  loosened 
the  fastenings,  he  reluctantly  gave  the  envelope  to  the 
Valaisan.  The  latter  cut  the  cloth,  and  laid  some  ten  or 
fifteen  different  pieces  of  jewelry  on  the  table.  The  specta¬ 
tors  crowded  about  the  spot  in  curiosity,  while  the  judge 
eagerly  referred  to  the  written  description  of  the  effects  of 
the  murdered  man. 

“  A  ring  of  brilliants,  with  an  emerald  of  price,  the  setting 
chased  and  heavy,”  read  the  Valaisan. 

“  Thank  God,  it  is  not  here !  ”  exclaimed  the  Signor 
Grimaldi.  “  One  could  wish  to  find  so  true  a  mariner  in¬ 
nocent  of  this  bloody  deed  !  ” 

The  chatelain  believed  he  was  on  the  scent  of  a  secret 
that  had  begun  to  perplex  him,  and  as  few  are  so  inherently 
humane  as  to  prefer  the  advantage  of  another  to  their  own 
success,  he  heard  both  the  announcement  and  the  declara¬ 
tion  of  the  noble  Genoese  with  a  frown. 

“  A  cross  of  turquoise  of  the  length  of  two  inches,  with 
pearls  of  no  great  value  intermixed,”  continued  the  judge. 

Sigismund  groaned  and  turned  away  from  the  table. 

“Unhappily,  here  is  that  which  too  well  answers  to  the 
description !  ”  slowly  and  with  evident  reluctance,  escaped 
from  the  Signor  Grimaldi. 

“  Bet  it  be  measured,”  demanded  the  prisoner. 

The  experiment  was  made,  and  the  agreement  was  found 
to  be  perfect. 

“  Bracelets  of  rubies,  the  stones  set  in  foil,  and  six  in 
number,”  continued  the  methodical  chatelain,  whose  eye 
now  lighted  with  the  triumph  of  victory 


396 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


u  These  aie  wanting  !  ”  cried  Melchior  de  Willading,  who, 
in  common  with  all  whom  he  had  served,  took  a  lively  in¬ 
terest  in  the  fate  of  Maso.  “  There  are  no  jewels  of  this 
description  here !  ” 

“  Come  to  the  next,  Herr  Chatelain,”  put  in  Peterchen, 
leaning  to  the  side  of  the  law’s  triumph  ;  “  let  us  have  the 
next,  o’  God’s  name  !  ” 

“  A  brooch  of  amethyst,  the  stone  of  our  own  mountains, 
set  in  foil,  and  the  size  of  one  eighth  of  an  inch  ;  form 
oval.” 

It  was  lying  on  the  table,  beyond  all  possibility  of  dispute. 
All  the  remaining  articles,  which  were  chiefly  rings  of  the 
less  prized  stones,  such  as  jasper,  granite,  topaz,  and  tur¬ 
quoise,  were  also  identified,  answering  perfectly  to  the  de¬ 
scription  furnished  by  the  jeweler,  who  had  sold  them  to. 
Jacques  Colis  the  night  of  the  fete,  when,  with  Swiss  thrift, 
he  had  laid  in  this  small  stock  in  trade,  with  a  view  to 
diminish  the  cost  of  his  intended  journey. 

“  It  is  a  principle  of  law,  unfortunate  man,”  remarked  the 
chatelain,  removing  the  spectacles  he  had  mounted  in  order 
to  read  the  list,  “  that  effects  wrongly  taken  from  one  robbed 
criminate  him  in  whose  possession  they  are  found,  unless 
he  can  render  a  clear  account  of  the  transfer.  What  hast 
thou  to  say  on  this  head  ?  ” 

“  Not  a  syllable,  Signore  ;  I  must  refer  you  and  all  others 
to  the  dog,  who  alone  can  furnish  the  history  of  these 
baubles.  It  is  clear  that  I  am  little  known  in  the  Valais, 
for  Maso  never  deals  in  trifles  insignificant  as  these.” 

“  The  pretext  will  not  serve  thee,  Maso  ;  thou  triflest  in 
an  affair  of  life  and  death.  Wilt  thou  confess  thy  crime, 
ere  we  proceed  to  extremities  ?  ” 

u  That  I  have  been  long  at  open  variance  with  the  law, 
Signor  Castellano,  is  true,  if  you  will  have  it  so ;  but  I  am 
as  innocent  of  this  man’s  death  as  the  noble  Baron  de  Wil¬ 
lading  here.  That  the  Genoese  authorities  were  looking 
for  me,  on  account  of  some  secret  understanding  that  the 
republic  has  with  its  old  enemies,  the  Savoyards,  I  frankly 
allow  too  ;  but  it  was  a  matter  of  gain,  and  not  of  blood.  I 
have  taken  life  in  my  time,  Signore,  but  it  has  been  in  fail 
combat,  whether  the  cause  was  just  or  not.” 


THE  HEADSMAN.  397 

“  Enough  has  been  proved  against  thee  already  to  justify 
the  use  of  the  torture  in  order  to  have  the  rest.” 

“  Nay,  I  do  not  see  the  necessity  of  this  appeal,”  re¬ 
marked  the  bailiff.  “  There  lies  the  dead,  here  is  his  prop¬ 
erty*  and  yonder  stands  the  criminal.  It  is  an  affair  that 
only  wants  the  forms,  methinks,  to  be  committed  presently 
to  the  axe.” 

“  Of  all  the  foul  offenses  against  God  and  man,”  resumed 
the  Valaisan,  in  the  manner  of  one  that  is  about  to  sentence, 
“  that  which  hastens  a  living  soul,  unshrived,  unconfessed, 
unprepared,  and  with  all  its  sins  upon  it,  into  another  state 
of  being,  and  into  the  dread  presence  of  his  Almighty  Judge, 
is  the  heaviest,  and  the  last  to  be  overlooked  by  the  law. 
There  is  less  excuse  for  thee,  Thomaso  Santi,  for  thy  educa¬ 
tion  has  been  far  superior  to  thy  fortunes,  and  thou  hast 
passed  a  life  of  vice  and  violence  in  opposition  to  thy  reason, 
and  what  was  taught  thee  in  youth.  Thou  hast,  therefore, 
little  ground  for  hope,  since  the  state  I  serve  loves  justice 
in  its  purity  above  all  other  qualities.” 

“  Nobly  spoken,  Herr  Chatelain,”  cried  the  bailiff,  “  and 
in  a  manner  to  send  repentance  like  a  dagger  into  the  crim¬ 
inal’s  soul.  What  is  thought  and  said  in  Valais  we  echo  in 
Vaud,  and  I  would  not  that  any  I  love  stood  in  thy  shoes, 
Maso,  for  the  honors  of  the  emperor.” 

Signori,  you  have  both  spoken,  and  it  is  as  men  whom 
fortune  hath  favored  since  childhood.  It  is  easy  for  those 
who  are  in  prosperity  to  be  upright  in  all  that  touches 
money,  though  by  the  light  of  the  blessed  Maria’s  counte¬ 
nance  !  I  do  think  there  is  more  coveted  by  those  who  have 
much  than  by  the  hardy  and  industrious  poor.  I  am  no 
stranger  to  that  which  men  call  justice,  and  know  how  to 
honor  and  respect  its  decrees  as  they  deserve.  Justice,  Sig¬ 
nori,  is  the  weak  man’s  scourge  and  the  strong  man’s  sword  ; 
it  is  a  breast-plate  and  back-plate  to  the  one,  and  a  weapon 
to  be  parried  by  the  other.  In  short,  it  is  a  word  of  fair 
import  on  the  tongue,  but  of  most  unequal  application  in 
the  deed.” 

“  We  overlook  thy  language  in  consideration  of  the  pass 
to  which  thy  crimes  have  reduced  thee,  unhappy  man, 


398 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


though  it  is  an  aggravation  of  thy  offenses,  since  it  proves 
thou  hast  sinned  equally  against  thyself  and  us.  This  affair 
need  go  no  further  ;  the  headsman  and  the  other  travellers 
may  be  dismissed ;  we  commit  the  Italian  to  the  irons.” 

Maso  heard  the  order  without  alarm,  though  he  appeared 
to  be  maintaining  a  violent  struggle  with  himself.  He  paced 
the  chapel  rapidly,  and  muttered  much  between  his  teeth. 
His  words  were  not  intelligible,  though  they  were  evidently 
of  strong,  if  not  violent,  import.  At  length  he  stopped 
short,  in  the  manner  of  one  who  had  decided. 

“  This  matter  grows  serious,”  he  said  ;  “  it  will  admit  of 
no  further  hesitation.  Signor  Grimaldi,  command  all  to 
leave  the  chapel  in  whose  discretion  you  have  not  the  most 
perfect  confidence.” 

“  I  see  none  to  be  distrusted,”  answered  the  surprised 
Genoese. 

“  Then  will  I  speak.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


899 


0 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Thy  voice  to  us  is  wind  among  still  woods. 

Shelley. 

Notwithstanding  the  gravity  of  the  facts  which  were 
accumulating  against  him,  Maso  had  maintained  throughout 
the  foregoing  scene  much  of  that  steady  self-possession  and 
discernment  which  were  the  fruits  of  adventure  in  scenes  of 
danger,  long  exposure,  and  multiplied  hazards.  To  these 
causes  of  coolness,  might  be  added  the  iron-like  nerves 
inherited  from  nature.  The  latter  were  not  easily  disturbed, 
however  critical  the  state  to  which  he  was  reduced.  Still 
he  had  changed  color,  and  his  manner  had  that  thoughtful 
and  unsettled  air  which  denotes  the  consciousness  of  being 
in  circumstances  that  require  uncommon  wariness  and  judg¬ 
ment.  But  his  final  opinion  appeared  to  be  formed  when 
he  made  the  appeal  mentioned  in  the  close  of  the  last 
chapter,  and  he  now  only  waited  for  the  two  or  three 
officials  who  were  present  to  retire,  before  he  pursued  his 
purpose.  When  the  door  was  closed,  leaving  none  but  his 
examiners,  Sigismund,  Balthazar,  and  the  group  of -females 
in  the  side-chapel,  he  turned,  with  singular  respect  of  man¬ 
ner,  and  addressed  himself  exclusively  to  the  Signor  Gri¬ 
maldi,  as  if  the  judgment  which  was  to  decide  his  fate  de¬ 
pended  solely  on  his  will. 

“  Signore,”  he  said,  “  there  has  been  much  secret  allusion 
between  us,  and  I  suppose  that  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to 
say,  that  you  are  known  to  me.” 

u  I  have  already  recognized  thee  for  a  countryman,” 
coldly  returned  the  Genoese  ;  “  it  is  in  vain,  however,  to 
imagine  the  circumstance  can  avail  a  murderer.  If  any 
consideration  could  induce  me  to  forget  the  claims  of  jus¬ 
tice,  the  recollection  of  thy  good  service  on  the  Leman 


400 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


would  prove  thy  best  friend.  As  it  is,  I  fear  thou  hast 
naught  to  expect  from  me.” 

Maso  was  silent.  He  looked  the  other  steadily  in  the 
face,  as  if  he  would  study  his  character,  though  he  guardedly 
prevented  his  manner  from  losing  its  appearance  of  pro¬ 
found  respect. 

u  Signore,  the  chances  of  life  were  greatly  with  you  at 
the  birth.  You  were  born  the  heir  of  a  powerful  house,  in 
which  gold  is  more  julenty  than  woes  in  a  poor  man’s  cabin, 
and  you  have  not  been  made  to  learn  by  experience  how 
hard  it  is  to  keep  down  the  longings  for  those  pleasures 
which  the  base  metal  will  purchase,  when  we  see  others 
rolling  in  its  luxuries.” 

“  This  plea  will  not  avail  thee,  unfortunate  man  ;  else 
were  there  an  end  of  human  institutions.  The  difference 
of  which  thou  speakest  is  a  simple  consequence  of  the  rights 
of  property  ;  and  even  the  barbarian  admits  the  sacred  duty 
of  respecting  that  which  is  another’s.” 

“  A  word  from  one  like  you,  illustrious  Signore,  would 
open  for  me  the  road  to  Piedmont,”  continued  Maso,  un¬ 
moved  ;  “  once  across  the  frontiers,  it  shall  be  my  care  never 
to  molest  the  rocks  of  Valais  again.  I  ask  only  what  I 
have  been  the  means  of  saving,  eccellenza,  —  life.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  shook  his  head,  though  it  was  very 
evident  that  he  declined  the  required  intercession  with  much 
reluctance.  He  and  old  Melchior  de  Willading  exchanged 
glances  ;  and  all  who  noted  this  silent  intercourse  under¬ 
stood  it  to  say,  that  each  considered  duty  to  God  a  higher 
obligation  than  gratitude  for  a  service  rendered  to  them¬ 
selves. 

“  Ask  gold,  or  what  thou  wilt  else,  but  do  not  ask  me  to 
aid  in  defeating  justice.  Gladly  would  I  have  given  for  the 
asking,  twenty  times  the  value  of  those  miserable  baubles 
for  whose  possession,  Maso,  thou  hast  rashly  taken  life  ;  but 
I  cannot  become  a  sharer  of  thy  crime,  by  refusing  atone¬ 
ment  for  his  friends.  It  is  too  late  ;  I  cannot  befriend  thee 
now,  if  I  would.” 

“  Thou  hearest  the  answer  of  this  noble  gentleman,”  in¬ 
terposed  the  chatelain  ;  “  it  is  wise  and  seemly,  and  thou 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


401 


greatly  overratest  his  influence  or  that  of  any  present,  if 
thou  fanciest  the  laws  can  be  set  aside  at  pleasure.  Wert 
thou  a  noble  thyself,  or  the  son  of  a  prince,  judgment  would 
have  its  way  in  the  Valais  !  ” 

Maso  smiled  wildly  ;  and  yet  the  expression  of  his  glit¬ 
tering  eye  was  so  ironical  as  to  cause  uneasiness  in  his  judge. 
The  Signor  Grimaldi,  too,  observed  the  audacious  confi¬ 
dence  of  his  air  with  distrust,  for  his  spirit  had  taken  secret 
alarm  on  a  subject  that  was  rarely  long  absent  from  his 
thoughts. 

“  If  thou  meanest  more  than  has  been  said,”  exclaimed 
the  latter,  “  for  the  sake  of  the  blessed  Maria  be  explicit !  ” 
“  Signor  Melchior,”  continued  Maso,  turning  to  the  baron, 
“  I  did  you  and  your  daughter  fair  service  on  the  lake  !  ” 

“  That  thou  didst,  Maso,  we  are  both  willing  to  admit, 
and  were  it  in  Berne,  —  but  the  laws  are  made  equally  for 
all,  the  great  and  the  humble,  they  who  have  friends,  and 
they  who  have  none.”  / 

“  I  have  heard  of  this  act  on  the  lake,”  put  in  Peterchen  ; 
“  and  unless  fame  lieth  —  which,  Heaven  knows,  fame  is  apt 
enough  to  do,  except  in  giving  their  just  dues  to  those  who 
are  in  high  trust,  —  thou  didst  conduct  thyself  in  that  affair, 
Maso,  like  a  loyal  and  well-taught  mariner  ;  but  the  honor¬ 
able  chatelain  has  well  remarked,  that  holy  justice  must 
have  way  before  all  other  things.  Justice  is  represented  as 
blind,  in  order  that  it  may  be  seen  she  is  no  respecter  of 
persons  ;  and  wert  thou  an  Avoyer,  the  decree  must  come. 
Reflect  maturely,  therefore,  on  all  the  facts,  and  thou  wilt 
come,  in  time,  to  see  the  impossibility  of  thine  own  inno¬ 
cence.  First,  thou  left  the  path,  being  ahead  of  Jacques 
Colis,  to  enter  it  at  a  moment  suited  to  thy  purposes  ;  then 
thou  took’st  his  life  for  gold  ”  — 

“  But  this  is  believing  that  to  be  true,  Signor  Bailifl, 
which  is  only  yet  supposed,”  interrupted  II  Maledetto  ;  “  I 
left  the  path  to  give  Nettuno  his  charge  apart  from  curious 
eyes  ;  and,  as  for  the  gold  of  which  you  speak,  wrould  the 
owmer  of  a  necklace  of  that  price  be  apt  to  barter  his  soul 
against  a  booty  like  this  which  comes  of  Jacques  Colis  !  ” 

Maso  spoke  with  a  contempt  which  did  not  serve  his 
26 


402 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


cause  ;  for  it  left  the  impression  among  the  auditors,  that 
he  weighed  the  morality  and  immorality  of  his  acts  simply 
by  their  result. 

“It  is  time  to  bring  this  to  an  end,”  said  the  Signor  Gri¬ 
maldi,  who  had  been  thoughtful  and  melancholy  while  the 
others  spoke  ;  “  thou  hast  something  to  address  particularly 
to  me,  Maso  ;  but  if  thy  claim  is  no  better  than  that  of 
our  common  country,  I  grieve  to  say,  it  cannot  be  ad¬ 
mitted.” 

“  Signore,  the  voice  of  a  Doge  of  Genoa  is  not  often  raised 
in  vain,  when  he  would  use  it  in  behalf  of  another  !  ” 

At  this  sudden  announcement  of  the  traveller’s  rank  the 
monks  and  the  chatelain  started  in  surprise,  and  a  low  mur¬ 
mur  of  wonder  was  heard  in  the  chapel.  The  smile  of 
Peterchen,  and  the  composure  of  the  Baron  de  Willading, 
however,  showed  that  they  at  least  had  learned  nothing 
new.  The  bailiff  whispered  the  prior  significantly,  and  from 
that  moment  his  deportment  towards  the  Genoese  took  still 
more  of  the  character  of  formal  and  official  respect.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Signor  Grimaldi  remained  composed, 
like  one  accustomed  to  receive  deference,  though  his  man¬ 
ner  lost  the  slight  degree  of  restraint  that  had  been  im¬ 
posed  by  the  observance  of  the  temporary  character  he  had 
assumed. 

“  The  voice  of  a  Doge  of  Genoa  should  not  be  used  in 
intercession,  unless  in  behalf  of  the  innocent,”  he  replied, 
keeping  his  severe  eye  fastened  on  the  countenance  of  the 
accused. 

Again  II  Maledetto  seemed  laboring  with  some  secret 
that  struggled  on  his  tongue. 

“  Speak,”  continued  the  Prince  of  Genoa ;  for  it  was,  in 
truth,  that  high  functionary,  who  had  journeyed  incognito, 
in  the  hope  of  meeting  his  ancient  friend  at  the  sports  of 
Vevey.  “  Speak,  Maso,  if  thou  hast  aught  serious  to  urge 
in  favor  of  thyself ;  time  presses,  and  the  sight  of  one  to 
whom  I  owe  so  much  in  this  great  jeopardy,  without  the 
power  to  aid  him,  grows  painful.” 

“  Signor  Doge,  though  deaf  to  pity,  you  cannot  be  deaf 
to  nature.” 


THE  HEADSMAN.  403 

The  countenance  of  the  Doge  became  livid ;  his  lips 
trembled  even  to  the  appearance  of  convulsions. 

“  Deal  no  longer  in  mystery,  man  of  blood  !  ”  he  said 
with  energy.  “  What  is  thy  meaning  ?  ” 

“  I  entreat  your  eccellenza  to  be  calm.  Necessity  forces 
me  to  speak  ;  for,  as  you  see,  I  stand  between  this  revela¬ 
tion  and  the  block  —  I  am  Bartolo  Contini !  ” 

The  groan  that  escaped  the  compressed  lips  of  the  Doge, 
the  manner  in  which  he  sank  into  a  seat,  and  the  hue  of 
death  that  settled  over  his  aged  countenance,  until  it  was 
more  ghastly  even  than  that  of  the  unhappy  victim  of  vio¬ 
lence,  drew  all  present,  in  wonder  and  alarm,  around  his 
chair.  Signing  for  those  who  pressed  upon  him  to  give 
way,  the  Prince  sat  gazing  at  Maso,  with  eyes  that  appeared 
ready  to  burst  from  their  sockets. 

“  Thou  Bartolomeo !  ”  he  uttered  huskily,  as  if  horror 
had  frozen  his  voice. 

“  I  am  Bartolo,  Signore,  and  no  other.  He  who  goes 
through  many  scenes  hath  occasion  for  many  names.  Even 
your  Highness  travels  at  times  under  a  cloud.” 

The  Doge  continued  to  stare  on  the  speaker  with  the 
fixedness  of  regard  that  one  might  be  supposed  to  fasten  on 
a  creature  of  unearthly  existence. 

“  Melchior,”  he  said  slowly,  turning  his  eyes  from  one  to 
the  other  of  the  forms  that  filled  them,  for  Sigismund  had 
advanced  to  the  side  of  Maso,  in  kind  concern  for  the  old 
man’s  condition,  “  Melchior,  we  are  but  feeble  and  miser¬ 
able  creatures  in  the  hand  of  one  who  looks  upon  the 
proudest  and  happiest  of  us,  as  we  look  upon-  the  worm  that 
crawls  the  earth  !  What  are  hope,  and  honor,  and  our 
fondest  love,  in  the  great  train  of  events  that  time  heaves 
from  its  womb,  bringing  forth  to  our  confusion  ?  Are  we 
proud  ?  fortune  revenges  itself  for  our  want  of  humility  by 
its  scorn.  Are  we  happy  ?  it  is  but  the  calm  that  precedes 
the  storm.  Are  we  great  ?  it  is  but  to  lead  us  into  abuses 
that  will  justify  our  fall.  Are  we  honored  ?  stains  tarnish 
our  good  names,  in  spite  of  all  our  care !  ” 

“  He  who  puts  his  trust  in  the  Son  of  Maria  need  never 
despair !  ”  whispered  the  worthy  clavier,  touched  nearly  to 


404 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


tears  by  the  sudden  distress  of  one  whom  he  had  learned  to 
respect.  “  Let  the  fortunes  of  the  world  pass  away,  or 
change  as  they  will,  his  chastening  love  outliveth  time  !  ” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi,  for,  though  the  elected  of  Genoa, 
such  was  in  truth  the  family  name  of  the  Doge,  turned  his 
vacant  gaze  for  an  instant  on  the  Augustine,  but  it  soon 
reverted  to  the  forms  and  faces  of  Maso  and  Sigismund, 
who  still  stood  before  him,  filling  his  thoughts  even  more 
than  his  sight. 

“  Yes,  there  is  a  power,”  he  resumed,  “  a  great  and 
beneficent  Being  to  equalize  our  fortunes  here,  and  when 
we  pass  into  another  state  of  being,  loaded  with  the  wrongs 
of  this,  we  shall  have  justice  !  Tell  me,  Melchior,  thou  who 
knew  my  youth,  who  read  my  heart  when  it  was  open  as 
day,  what  was  there  in  it  to  deserve  this  punishment  ? 
Here  is  Balthazar,  come  of  a  race  of  executioners  —  a  man 
condemned  of  opinion  —  that  prejudice  besets  with  a  hedge 
of  hatred  —  that  men  point  at  with  their  fingers,  and  whom 
the  dogs  are  ready  to  bay  —  this  Balthazar  is  the  father  of 
that  gallant  youth,  whose  form  is  so  perfect,  whose  spirit  is 
so  noble,  and  whose  life  so  pure  ;  while  I,  the  last  of  a 
line  that  is  lost  in  the  obscurity  of  time,  the  wealthiest  of 
my  land,  and  the  chosen  of  my  peers,  am  accursed  with  an 
outcast,  a  common  brigand,  a  murderer,  for  the  sole  prop 
of  my  decaying  house  —  with  this  II  Maledetto  —  this  man 
accursed  —  for  a  son  !  ” 

A  movement  of  astonishment  escaped  the  listeners,  even 
the  Baron  de  Willading  not  suspecting  the  real  cause  of 
his  friend’s  distress.  Maso  alone  was  unmoved ;  for  while 
the  aged  father  betrayed  the  keenness  of  his  anguish,  the 
son  discovered  none  of  that  sympathy  of  which  even  a  life 
like  his  might  be  supposed  to  have  left  some  remains  in  the 
heart  of  a  child.  He  was  cold,  collected,  observant,  and 
master  of  his  smallest  action. 

“  I  will  not  believe  this,”  exclaimed  the  Doge,  whose 
very  soul  revolted  at  this  unfeeling  apathy,  even  more  than 
at  the  disgrace  of  being  the  father  of  such  a  child  ;  “  thou 
art  not  he  thou  pretendest  to  be ;  this  foul  lie  is  uttered 
that  my  natural  feelings  may  interpose  between  thee  and 


THE  HEADSMAN.  405 

the  block !  Prove  thy  truth,  or  I  abandon  thee  to  thy 
fate.” 

“  Signore,  I  would  have  saved  this  unhappy  exhibition, 
but  you  would  not.  That  I  am  Bartolo  this  signet,  your 
own  gift  sent  to  be  my  protection  in  a  strait  like  this,  will 
show.  It  is,  moreover,  easy  for  me  to  prove  what  I  say,  by 
a  hundred  witnesses  who  are  living  in  Genoa.” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  stretched  forth  a  hand  that  trembled 
like  an  aspen  to  receive  the  ring,  a  jewel  of  little  price,  but 
a  signet  that  he  had,  in  truth,  sent  to  be  an  instrument  of 
recognition  between  him  his  child,  in  the  event  of  any 
sudden  calamity  befalling  the  latter.  He  groaned  as  he 
gazed  at  its  well-remembered  emblems,  for  its  identity  was 
only  too  plain. 

“  Maso  —  Bartolo  —  Gaetano  —  for  such,  miserable  boy,  is 
thy  real  appellation  —  thou  canst  not  know  how  bitter  is  the 
pang  that  an  unworthy  child  brings  to  the  parent,  else 
would  thy  life  have  been  different.  Oh  !  Gaetano  !  Gaetano  ! 
what  a  foundation  art  thou  for  a  father’s  hopes  !  What  a 
subject  for  a  father’s  love  !  I  saw  thee  last  a  smiling,  inno¬ 
cent  cherub,  in  thy  nurse’s  arms,  and  I  find  thee  with  a 
blighted  soul,  the  pure  fountain  of  thy  mind  corrupted,  a 
form  sealed  with  the  stamp  of  vice,  and  with  hands  dyed  in 
blood  ;  prematurely  old  in  body,  and  with  a  spirit  that  hath 
already  the  hellish  taint  of  the  damned !  ” 

“  Signore,  you  find  me  as  the  chances  of  a  wild  life  have 
willed.  The  world  and  I  have  been  at  loggerheads  this 
many  a  year,  and  in  trifling  with  its  laws,  I  take  my  revenge 
of  its  abuse,”  warmly  returned  II  Maledetto,  for  his  spirit 
began  to  be  aroused.  “  Thou  bear’st  hard  upon  me,  Doge 
—  father  —  or  what  thou  wilt  —  and  I  should  be  little  worthy 
of  my  lineage,  did  I  not  meet  thy  charges  as  they  are  made. 
Compare  thine  own  career  with  mine,  and  let  it  be  pro¬ 
claimed  by  sound  of  trumpet  if  thou  wilt,  which  hath  most 
reason  to  be  proud,  and  which  to  exult.  Thou  wert  reared 
in  the  hopes  and  honors  of  our  name  ;  thou  passed  thy 
youth  in  the  pursuit  of  arms  according  to  thy  fancy,  and 
when  tired  of  change,  and  willing  to  narrow  thy  pleasures, 
thou  looked  about  thee  for  a  maiden  to  become  the  mother 


406 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  thy  successor  ;  thou  turned  a  wishing  eye  on  one  young, 
fair,  and  noble,  but  whose  affections,  as  her  faith,  were 
solemnly,  irretrievably  plighted  to  another.” 

The  Doge  shuddered  and  veiled  his  eyes  ;  but  he  eagerly 
interrupted  Maso. 

“  Her  kinsman  was  unworthy  of  her  love,”  he  cried ; 
“  he  was  an  outcast,  and  little  better  than  thyself,  unhappy 
boy,  except  in  the  chances  of  condition.” 

“  It  matters  not,  Signore ;  God  had  not  made  you  the 
arbiter  of  her  fate.  In  tempting  her  family  by  your  greater 
riches,  you  crushed  two  hearts,  and  destroyed  the  hopes  of 
your  fellow-creatures.  In  her  was  sacrificed  an  angel,  mild 
and  pure  as  this  fair  creature  who  is  now  listening  so 
breathlessly  to  my  words ;  in  him  a  fierce,  untamed  spirit, 
that  had  only  the  greater  need  of  management,  since  it  was 
as  likely  to  go  wrong  as  right.  Before  your  son  was  born, 
this  unhappy  rival,  poor  in  hopes  as  in  wealth,  had  become 
desperate ;  and  the  mother  of  your  child  sank  a  victim  to 
her  ceaseless  regrets,  at  her  own  want  of  faith  as  much  as 
for  his  follies.” 

“  Thy  mother  was  deluded,  Gaetano  ;  she  never  knew 
the  real  qualities  of  her  cousin,  or  a  soul  like  hers  would 
have  loathed  the  wretch.” 

“  Signore,  it  matters  not,”  continued  II  Maledetto,  with 
a  ruthless  perseverance  of  intention,  and  a  coolness  of 
manner  that  would  seem  to  merit  the  description  which 
had  just  been  given  his  spirit,  that  of  possessing  a  hellish 
taint ;  “  she  loved  him  with  a  woman’s  heart ;  and  with  a 
woman’s  ingenuity  and  confidence,  she  ascribed  his  fall 
to  despair  for  her  loss.” 

“  Oh,  Melchior  !  Melchior  !  this  is  fearfully  true  !  ” 
groaned  the  Doge. 

“  It  is  so  true,  Signore,  that  it  should  be  written  on  my 
mother’s  tomb.  We  are  children  of  a  fiery  climate  ;  the 
passions  burn  in  our  Italy  like  the  hot  sun  that  glows 
there.  When  despair  drove  the  disappointed  lover  to  acts 
that  rendered  him  an  outlaw,  the  passage  to  revenge  was 
short.  Your  child  was  stolen,  hid  from  your  view,  and 
cast  upon  the  world  under  circumstances  that  left  little 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


407 


doubt  of  his  living  in  bitterness,  and  dying  under  the  con¬ 
tempt,  if  not  the  curses,  of  his  fellows.  All  this,  Signor 
Grimaldi,  is  the  fruit  of  your  own  errors.  Had  you 
respected  the  affections  of  an  innocent  girl,  the  sad  conse¬ 
quences  to  yourself  and  me  might  have  been  avoided.” 

“  Is  this  man’s  history  to  be  believed,  Gaetano  ?  ”  de¬ 
manded  the  baron,  who  had  more  than  once  betrayed  a 
wish  to  check  the  rude  tongue  of  the  speaker. 

“  I  do  not  —  I  canncft  deny  it ;  I  never  saw  my  own 
conduct  in  this  criminal  light  before,  and  yet  now  it  all 
seems  frightfully  true  !  ” 

II  Maledetto  laughed.  Those  around  him  thought  his 
untimely  merriment  resembled  the  mockery  of  a  devil. 

“  This  is  the  manner  in  which  men  continue  to  sin, 
while  they  lay  claim  to  the  merit  of  innocence  !  ”  he  added. 
“  Let  the  great  of  the  earth  give  but  half  the  care  to  pre¬ 
vent,  that  they  show  to  punish,  offenses  against  themselves, 
and  what  is  now  called  justice  will  no  longer  be  a  stalk¬ 
ing-horse  to  enable  a  few  to  live  at  the  cost  of  the  rest. 
As  for  me,  I  am  proof  of  what  noble  blood  and  illustrious 
ancestry  can  do  for  themselves !  Stolen  when  a  child, 
Nature  has  had  fair  play  in  my  temperament,  which  I  own 
is  more  disposed  to  wild  adventure  and  manly  risks  than 
to  the  pleasures  of  marble  halls.  Noble  father  of  mine, 
were  this  spirit  dressed  up  in  the  guise  of  a  senator,  or 
doge,  it  might  fare  badly  with  Genoa  !  ” 

“  Unfortunate  man,”  exclaimed  the  indignant  prior,  “  is 
this  language  for  a  child  to  use  to  his  father  ?  Dost  thou 
forget  that  the  blood  of  Jacques  Colis  is  on  thy  soul  ?  ” 

“  Holy  Augustine,  the  candor  with  which  my  general 
frailties  are  allowed,  should  gain  me  credit  when  I  speak 
of  particular  accusations.  By  the  hopes  and  piety  of  the 
reverend  canon  of  Aoste,  thy  patron  saint  and  founder,  I 
am  guiltless  of  this  crime.  Question  Nettuno  as  you  will, 
or  turn  the  affair  in  every  way  that  usage  warrants,  and 
let  appearances  take  what  shape  they  may,  I  swear  to  you 
my  innocence.  If  you  think  that  fear  of  punishment 
tempts  me  to  utter  a  lie  under  these  holy  appeals  (he 
crossed  himself  with  reverence),  ye  do  injustice  both  to 


408 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


my  courage  and  to  my  love  of  the  saints.  The  only  son 
of  the  reigning  Doge  of  Genoa  has  little  to  fear  from  the 
headsman’s  blow !  ” 

Again  Maso  laughed.  It  was  the  confidence  of  one  who 
knew  the  world,  and  was  too  audacious  even  to  consult 
appearances  unless  it  suited  bis  humor,  breaking  out  in  very 
wantonness.  A  man  who  had  led  his  life,  was  not  to  learn 
at  this  late  day,  that  the  want  of  eyes  in  Justice  oftener 
means  blindness  to  the  faults  of  4he  privileged,  than  the 
impartiality  that  is  assumed  by  the  pretending  emblem. 
The  chatelain,  the  prior,  the  bailiff,  the  clavier,  and  the 
Baron  de  Willading,  looked  at  each  other  like  men  be¬ 
wildered.  The  mental  agony  of  the  Doge  formed  a  con¬ 
trast  so  frightful  with  the  heartless  and  cruel  insensibility 
of  the  son,  that  the  sight  chilled  their  blood.  The  senti¬ 
ment  was  only  the  more  common,  from  the  silent  but 
general  conviction  that  the  unfeeling  criminal  must  be  per¬ 
mitted  to  escape.  There  was,  indeed,  no  precedent  for 
leading  the  child  of  a  prince  to  the  block,  unless  it  was  for 
an  offense  which  touched  the  preservation  of  the  father’s 
interests.  Much  was  said  in  maxims  and  apothegms  of 
the  purity  and  necessity  of  rigid  impartiality  in  administer¬ 
ing  the  affairs  of  life,  but  neither  had  attained  his  years  and 
experience  without  obtaining  glimpses  of  practical  things, 
that  taught  them  to  foresee  the  impunity  of  Maso.  Too 
much  violence  would  be  done  to  a  factitious  and  tottering 
edifice,  were  it  known  that  a  prince’s  son  was  no  better 
than  one  of  the  vilest,  and  the  lingering  feelings  of  pater¬ 
nity  were  certain  at  last  to  cast  a  shield  before  the  offender. 

The  embarrassment  and  doubt  attending  such  a  state  of 
things  was  happily,  but  quite  unexpectedly,  relieved  by  the 
interference  of  Balthazar.  The  headsman,  until  this  mo¬ 
ment,  had  been  a  silent  and  attentive  listener  to  all  that 
passed  ;  but  now  he  pressed  himself  into  the  circle,  and 
looking,  in  his  quiet  manner,  from  one  to  the  other,  he 
spoke  with  the  assurance  that  the  certainty  of  having  im¬ 
portant  intelligence  to  impart,  is  apt  to  give  even  to  the 
meekest,  in  the  presence  of  those  whom  they  habitually 
respect. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


409 


“This  broken  tale  ot  Maso,”  he  said,  “is  removing  a 
cloud  that  has  lain  for  nearly  thirty  years  before  my  eyes. 
Is  it  true,  illustrious  Doge,  for  such  it  appears  is  your 
princely  state,  that  a  son  of  your  noble  stock  was  stolen  and 
kept  in  secret  from  your  love,  through  the  vindictive  enmity 
of  a  rival  ?  ” 

“  True  !  —  alas,  too  true  !  Would  it  had  pleased  the 
blessed  Maria,  who  so  cherished  his  mother,  to  call  his 
spirit  to  heaven,  ere  the  curse  befell  him  and  me  !  ” 

“  Your  pardon,  great  prince,  if  I  press  you  with  questions 
at  a  moment  so  painful.  But  it  is  in  your  own  interest. 
Suffer  that  I  may  ask  in  what  year  this  calamity  befell  your 
family  ?  ” 

The  Signor  Grimaldi  signed  for  his  friend  to  assume  the 
office  of  answering  these  extraordinary  interrogatories, 
while  he  buried  his  own  venerable  face  in  his  cloak,  to  con¬ 
ceal  his  anguish  from  curious  eyes.  Melchior  de  Willading 
regarded  the  headsman  in  surprise,  and  for  an  instant  he 
was  disposed  to  repel  questions  that  seemed  importunate  ; 
but  the  earnest  countenance,  and  mild,  decent  demeanor 
of  Balthazar,  overcame  his  repugnance  to  pursue  the  sub¬ 
ject. 

“The  child  was  seized  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1693,” 
he  answered,  his  previous  conferences  with  his  friend  hav¬ 
ing  put  him  in  possession  of  all  the  leading  facts  of  the  his¬ 
tory. 

“  And  his  age  ?  ” 

“  Was  near  a  twelvemonth.” 

“  Can  you  inform  me  what  became  of  the  profligate  noble 
who  committed  this  foul  robbery  ?  ” 

“  The  fate  of  the  Signore  Pantaleone  Serrani  has  never 
been  truly  known ;  though  there  is  a  dark  rumor  that  he 
died  in  a  brawl  in  our  own  Switzerland.  That  he  is  dead, 
there  is  no  cause  to  doubt.” 

“  And  his  person,  noble  Freiherr — a  description  of  his 
person  is  now  only  wanting,  to  throw  the  light  of  a  noon¬ 
day  sun  on  what  has  so  long  been  night !  ” 

“  I  knew  the  unlucky  Signor  Pantaleone  well  in  early 
youth.  At  the  time  mentioned,  his  years  might  have  been 


410 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


thirty ;  his  form  was  seemly  and  of  middle  height ;  his 
features  bore  the  Italian  outline,  with  the  dark  eye,  swarthy 
skin,  and  glossy  hair  of  the  climate.  More  than  this,  with 
the  exception  of  a  finger  lost  in  one  of  our  affairs  in  Lom- 
bard}’-,  I  cannot  say.” 

“  This  is  enough,”  returned  the  attentive  Balthazar. 
“  Dismiss  your  grief,  princely  Doge,  and  prepare  your  heart 
for  a  new-found  joy.  Instead  of  being  the  parent  of  this 
reckless  freebooter,  God  at  length  pities  and  returns  your 
real  son  in  Sigismund,  a  child  that  might  gladden  the  heart 
of  any  parent,  though  he  were  an  emperor  !  ” 

This  extraordinary  declaration  was  made  to  stunned  and 
confounded  listeners.  A  cry  of  alarm  burst  from  the  lips 
of  Marguerite,  who  approached  the  group  in  the  centre  of 
the  chapel,  trembling  and  anxious,  as  if  the  grave  were 
about  to  rob  her  of  a  treasure. 

“  What  is  this  I  hear !  ”  exclaimed  the  mother,  whose 
sensitiveness  was  the  first  to  take  alarm.  “  Are  my  half- 
formed  suspicions  then  too  true,  Balthazar  ?  Am  I,  indeed, 
without  a  son  ?  I  know  thou  wouldst  not  trifle  with  a 
mother,  or  mislead  this  stricken  noble  in  a  thing  like  this  ! 
Speak  again,  that  I  may  know  the  truth  —  Sigismund  ”  — 

“  Is  not  our  child,”  answered  the  headsman,  with  an  im¬ 
press  of  truth  in  his  manner  that  went  far  to  bring  con¬ 
viction  ;  “  our  own  boy  died  in  the  blessed  state  of  infancy, 
and,  to  save  thy  feelings,  this  youth  was  substituted  in  his 
place  by  me  without  thy  knowledge.” 

Marguerite  moved  nearer  to  the  young  man.  She  gazed 
wistfully  at  his  flushed,  excited  features,  in  which  pain  at 
being  so  unexpectedly  torn  from  the  bosom  of  a  family  he 
had  always  deemed  his  own,  was  fearfully  struggling  with 
a  wild  and  indefinite  delight  at  finding  himself  suddenly 
relieved  from  a  load  he  had  long  found  so  grievous  to  be 
borne.  Interpreting  the  latter  expression  with  jealous 
affection,  she  bent  her  face  to  her  bosom,  and  retreated  in 
silence  among  her  companions  to  weep. 

In  the  mean  time  a  sudden  and  tumultuous  surprise  took 
possession  of  the  different  listeners,  which  was  modified  and 
exhibited  according  to  their  respective  characters,  or  to  the 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


411 


amount  of  interest  that  each  had  in  the  truth  or  falsehood  of 
what  had  just  been  announced.  The  Doge  clung  to  the  hope, 
improbable  as  it  seemed,  with  a  tenacity  proportioned  to  his 
recent  anguish,  while  Sigismund  stood  like  one  beside  him¬ 
self.  His  eye  wandered  from  the  simple  and  benevolent, 
but  degraded  man,  whom  he  had  believed  to  be  his  father, 
to  the  venerable  and  imposing-looking  noble  who  was  now 
so  unexpectedly  presented  in  that  sacred  character.  The 
sobs  of  Marguerite  reached  his  ears,  and  first  recalled  him 
to  recollection.  They  came  blended  with  the  fresh  grief  of 
Christine,  who  felt  as  if  ruthless  death  had  now  robbed  her 
of  a  brother.  There  was  also  the  struggling  emotion  of  one 
whose  interest  in  him  had  a  still  more  tender  and  engross¬ 
ing  claim. 

“  This  is  so  wonderful !  ”  said  the  trembling  Doge,  who 
dreaded  lest  the  next  syllable  that  was  uttered  might 
destroy  the  blessed  illusion,  “  so  wildly  improbable,  that 
though  my  soul  yearns  to  believe  it,  my  reason  refuses  cre¬ 
dence.  It  is  not  enough  to  utter  this  sudden  intelligence, 
Balthazar;  it  must  be  proved.  Furnish  but  a  moiety  of  the 
evidence  that  is  necessary  to  establish  a  legal  fact,  and  I  will 
render  thee  the  richest  of  thy  class  in  Christendom  !  And 
thou,  Sigismund,  come  close  to  my  heart,  noble  boy,”  he 
added,  with  outstretched  arms,  “  that  I  may  bless  thee,  while 
there  is  hope  —  that  I  may  feel  one  beat  of  a  father’s  pulse 
—  one  instant  of  a  father’s  joy  !  ” 

Sigismund  knelt  at  the  venerable  prince’s  feet,  and 
receiving  his  head  on  his  shoulders,  their  tears  mingled. 
But  even  at  that  precious  moment  both  felt  a  sense  of  inse¬ 
curity,  as  if  the  excpusite  pleasure  of  so  pure  a  happiness 
were  too  intense  to  last.  Maso  looked  upon  this  scene  with 
cold  displeasure ;  his  averted  face  denoting  a  stronger  feel¬ 
ing  than  disappointment,  though  the  power  of  natural  sym¬ 
pathy  was  so  strong  as  to  draw  evidences  of  its  force  from 
the  eyes  of  all  the  others  present. 

“  Bless  thee,  bless  thee,  my  child,  my  dearly  beloved 
son  !  ”  murmured  the  Doge,  lending  himself  to  the  improb¬ 
able  tale  of  Balthazar  for  a  delicious  instant,  and  kissing 
the  cheeks  of  Sigismund  as  one  would  embrace  a  smiling 


412 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


infant ;  “  may  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth,  his  only  Son, 
and  the  Holy  Virgin  undefiled,  unite  to  bless  thee,  here  and 
hereafter,  be  thou  whom  thou  mayest !  I  owe  thee  one 
precious  instant  of  happiness,  such  as  I  have  never  tasted 
before.  To  find  a  child  would  not  be  enough  to  give  it 
birth  ;  but  to  believe  thee  to  be  that  son  touches  on  the 
joys  of  paradise  !  ” 

Sigismund  fervently  kissed  the  hand  that  had  rested 
affectionately  on  his  head  during  this  diction  ;  then,  feeling 
the  necessity  of  having  some  guarantee  for  the  existence  of 
emotions  so  sweet,  he  rose  and  made  a  warm  and  strong 
appeal  to  him  who  had  so  long  passed  for  his  father  to  be 
more  explicit,  and  to  justify  his  new-born  hopes  by  some 
evidence  better  than  his  simple  asseveration  ;  for  solemnly 
as  the  latter  had  been  made,  and  profound  as  he  knew  to 
be  the  reverence  for  truth  which  the  despised  headsman 
not  only  entertained  himself,  but  inculcated  on  all  in  whom 
he  had  any  interest,  the  revelation  he  had  just  made  seemed 
too  improbable  to  resist  the  doubts  of  one  who  knew  his 
happiness  to  be  the  fruit  or  the  forfeiture  of  his  veracity. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


413 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

We  rest  —  a  dream  lias  power  to  poison  sleep; 

We  rise  —  one  wandering  thought  pollutes  the  day; 

We  feel,  conceive  or  reason,  laugh  or  weep; 

Embrace  fond  woe,  or  cast  our  cares  away. 

Shelley. 

The  tale  of  Balthazar  was  simple  but  eloquent.  His 
union  with  Marguerite,  in  spite  of  the  world’s  obloquy  and 
injustice,  had  been  blessed  by  the  wise  and  merciful  Being 
who  knew  how  to  temper  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb. 

“  We  knew  we  were  all  to  each  other,”  he  continued, 
after  briefly  alluding  to  the  early  history  of  their  births  and 
love ;  “  and  we  felt  the  necessity  of  living  for  ourselves. 
Ye  that  are  born  to  honors,  who  meet  with  smiles  and 
respectful  looks  in  all  ye  meet,  can  know  little  of  the  feel¬ 
ing  which  binds  together  the  unhappy.  When  God  gave 
us  our  first-born,  as  he  lay  a  smiling  babe  in  her  lap,  look¬ 
ing  up  into  her  eye  with  the  innocence  that  most  likens 
man  to  angels,  Marguerite  shed  bitter  tears  at  the  thought 
of  such  a  creature’s  being  condemned  by  the  laws  to  shed 
the  blood  of  men.  The  reflection  that  he  was  to  live  for¬ 
ever  an  outcast  from  his  kind  was  bitter  to  a  mother’s 
heart.  We  had  made  many  offers  to  the  canton  to  be 
released  ourselves  from  this  charge  ;  we  had  prayed  them  — 
Herr  Melchior,  you  should  know  how  earnestly  we  have 
prayed  the  council,  to  be  suffered  to  live  like  others,  and 
without  this  accursed  doom  —  but  they  would  not.  They 
said  the  usage  was  ancient,  that  change  wras  dangerous,  and 
that  what  God  willed  must  come  to  pass.  We  could  not 
bear  that  the  burden  we  found  so  hard  to  endure  ourselves 
should  go  down  forever  as  a  curse  upon  our  descendants, 
Herr  Doge,”  he  continued,  raising  his  meek  face  in  the 
pride  of  honesty ;  “  it  is  well  for  those  who  are  the  possess- 


414 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ors  of  honors  to  be  proud  of  their  privileges  ;  but  when  the 
inheritance  is  one  of  wrongs  and  scorn,  when  the  evil  eyes 
of  our  fellows  are  upon  us,  the  heart  sickens.  Such  was 
our  feeling  when  we  looked  upon  our  first-born.  The  wish 
to  save  him  from  our  own  disgrace  was  uppermost,  and  we 
bethought  us  of  the  means.” 

“  Aye  !  ”  sternly  interrupted  Marguerite,  “  I  parted  with 
my  child,  and  silenced  a  mother’s  longings,  proud  nobles, 
that  he  might  not  become  the  tool  of  your  ruthless  policy  ; 
I  gave  up  a  mother’s  joy  in  nourishing  and  cherishing  her 
young,  that  the  little  innocent  might  live  among  his  fellows, 
as  God  had  created  him,  their  equal,  and  not  their  victim  !  ” 

Balthazar  paused,  as  was  usual  with  him  whenever  his 
energetic  wife  manifested  any  of  her  strong  and  masculine 
qualities,  and  then,  when  deep  silence  had  followed  her 
remark,  he  proceeded. 

“  We  wanted  not  for  wealth  ;  all  we  asked  was  to  be 
like  others  in  the  world’s  respect.  With  our  money  it  was 
very  easy  to  find  those  in  another  canton,  who  were  willing 
to  take  the  little  Sigismund  into  their  keeping.  After 
which,  a  feigned  death  and  a  private  burial  did  the  rest. 
The  deceit  was  easily  practiced,  for  as  few  cared  for  the 
griefs  as  for  the  happiness  of  the  headsman’s  family.  The 
child  had  drawn  near  the  end  of  its  first  vear,  when  I  was 
called  upon  to  execute  my  office  on  a  stranger.  The 
criminal  had  taken  life  in  a  drunken  brawl  in  one  of  the 
towns  of  the  canton,  and  lie  was  said  to  be  a  man  that  had 
trifled  with  the  precious  gifts  of  birth,  it  being  suspected 
that  he  was  noble.  I  went  with  a  heavy  heart,  for  never 
did  I  strike  a  blow  without  praying  God  it  might  be  the 
last ;  but  it  was  heavier  when  I  reached  the  place  where 
the  culprit  awaited  his  fate.  The  tidings  of  my  poor  son’s 
death  reached  me  as  I  put  foot  on  the  threshold  of  the 
desolate  prison,  and  I  turned  aside  to  weep  for  my  own 
woes,  before  I  entered  to  see  my  victim.  The  condemned 
man  had  great  unwillingness  to  die  ;  he  had  sent  for  me 
many  hours  before  the  fatal  moment,  to  make  acquaintance, 
as  he  said,  with  the  hand  that  was  to  dispatch  him  to  the 
presence  of  his  last  and  eternal  judge.” 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


415 


Balthazar  paused  ;  he  appeared  to  meditate  on  a  scene 
that  had  probably  left  indelible  impressions  on  his  mind. 
Shuddering  involuntarily,  he  raised  his  eyes  from  the  pave¬ 
ment  of  the  chapel,  and  continued  the  recital,  always  in  the 
same  subdued  and  tranquil  manner. 

“  I  have  been  the  unwilling  instrument  of  many  a  violent 
death  —  I  have  seen  the  most  reckless  sinners  in  the  agonies 
of  sudden  and  compelled  repentance,  but  never  have  I  wit¬ 
nessed  so  wild  and  fearful  a  stru£<de  between  earth  and 
heaven  —  the  world  and  the  grave  —  passion  and  the  rebuke 
of  Providence  —  as  attended  the  last  hours  of  that  unhappy 
man  !  There  were  moments  in  which  the  mild  spirit  of 
Christ  won  upon  his  evil  mood,  ’tis  true ;  but  the  picture 
was,  in  general,  that  of  revenge  so  fierce,  that  the  powers 
of  hell  alone  could  give  it  birth  in  a  human  heart.  He  had 
with  him  an  infant  of  an  age  just  fitted  to  be  taken  from 
the  breast.  This  child  appeared  to  awaken  the  fiercest 
conflicting  feelings  ;  he  both  yearned  over  it  and  detested 
its  sight,  though  hatred  seemed  most  to  prevail.” 

“  This  was  horrible  !  ”  murmured  the  Doge. 

“  It  was  the  more  horrible,  Herr  Doge,  that  it  should 
come  from  one  who  was  justly  condemned  to  the  axe.  He 
rejected  the  priests  ;  he  would  have  naught  of  any  but  me. 
My  soul  loathed  the  wretch  —  yet  so  few  ever  showed  an 
interest  in  us  —  and  it  would  have  been  cruel  to  desert  a 
dying  man  !  At  the  end,  he  placed  the  child  in  my  care, 
furnishing  more  gold  than  was  sufficient  to  rear  it  frugally 
to  tfie  age  of  manhood,  and  leaving  other  valuables  which  I 
have  kept  as  proofs  that  might  some  day  be  useful.  All  I 
could  learn  of  the  infant’s  origin  was  simply  this.  It  came 
from  Italy,  and  of  Italian  parents  ;  its  mother  died  soon 
after  its  birth,”  —  a  groan  escaped  the  Doge,  —  “  its  father 
still  lived,  and  was  the  object  of  the  criminal’s  implacable 
hatred,  as  its  mother  had  been  of  his  ardent  love;  its  birth 
was  noble,  and  it  had  been  baptized  in  the  bosom  of  the 
church  by  the  name  of  Gaetano.” 

“  It  must  be  he  !  —  it  is  —  it  must  be  my  beloved  son  !  ” 
exclaimed  the  Doge,  unable  to  control  himself  any  longer. 
He  spread  wide  his  arms,  and  Sigismund  threw  himself 


416 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


upon  his  bosom,  though  there  still  remained  fearful  appre¬ 
hensions  that  all  he  heard  was  a  dream.  44  Go  on  —  go  on 
—  excellent  Balthazar,”  added  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  drying 
his  eves,  and  struggling  to  command  himself.  44  I  shall 
have  no  peace  until  all  is  revealed  to  the  last  syllable  of 
thv  wonderful,  thv  glorious  tale  !” 

44  There  remains  but  little  more  to  say,  Herr  Doge.  The 
fatal  hour  arrived,  and  the  criminal  was  transported  to  the 
place  where  he  was  to  give  up  his  life.  While  seated  in 
the  chair  iu  which  he  received  the  fatal  blow,  his  spirit 
underwent  infernal  torments.  1  have  reason  to  think  that 
there  were  moments  when  he  would  gladly  have  made  his 
peace  with  God.  But  the  demons  prevailed ;  he  died  in 
his  sins!  From  the  hour  when  he  committed  the  little 
Gaetano  to  my  keeping,  I  did  not  cease  to  entreat  to  be 
put  in  possession  of  the  secret  of  the  child’s  birth,  but  the 
sole  answer  I  received  was  an  order  to  appropriate  the 
gold  to  my  own  uses,  and  to  adopt  the  boy  as  my  own. 
The  sword  was  in  my  hand,  and  the  signal  to  strike  was 
given,  when,  for  the  last  time,  I  asked  the  name  of  the 
infant’s  family  and  country,  as  a  duty  I  could  not  neglect. 
‘  He  is  thine  —  he  is  thine  ’  —  was  the  answer ;  4  tell  me, 
Balthazar,  is  thy  office  hereditary,  as  is  wont  in  these 
regions  ?  ’  I  was  compelled,  as  ye  know,  to  say  it  was. 
4  Then  adopt  the  urchin  ;  rear  him  to  fatten  on  the  blood 
of  his  fellows  !  ’  It  was  mockery  to  trifle  with  such  a  spirit. 
When  his  head  fell,  it  still  had  on  its  fierce  features  traces 
of  the  infernal  triumph  with  which  his  spirit  departed !  ” 

44  The  monster  was  a  just  sacrifice  to  the  laws  of  the 
canton  !  ”  exclaimed  the  single-minded  bailiff.  44  Thou 
seest,  Herr  Melchior,  that  we  do  well  in  arming  the  hand 
of  the  executioner,  in  spite  of  all  the  sentiment  of  the 
weak-minded.  Such  a  wretch  was  Surely  unworthy  to 
live.” 

This  burst  of  official  felicitation  from  Peterchen,  who 
rarely  neglected  to  draw  a  conclusion  favorable  to  the 
existing  order  of  things,  like  most  of  those  who  reap  their 
exclusive  advantage,  and  to  the  prejudice  of  innovation, 
produced  little  attention ;  all  present  were  too  much 


THE  HEADSMAN.  417 

absorbed  in  the  facts  related  by  Balthazar,  to  turn  aside  to 
speak,  or  think,  of  other  matters. 

“  What  became  of  the  boy  ?  ”  demanded  the  worthy 
clavier,  who  had  taken  as  deep  an  interest  as  the  rest,  in 
the  progress  of  the  narrative. 

“  I  could  not  desert  him,  father  ;  nor  did  I  wish  to.  He 
came  into  my  guardianship  at  a  moment  when  God,  to 
reprove  our  repinings  at  a  lot  that  he  had  chosen  to  impose, 
had  taken  our  own  little  Sigismund  to  heaven.  I  filled  the 
place  of  the  dead  infant  with  my  living  charge ;  I  gave  to 
him  the  name  of  my  own  son,  and  I  can  say  confidently, 
thaX  I  transferred  to  him  the  love  I  had  borne  my  own 
issue  ;  though  time,  and  use,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  child’s 
character,  were  perhaps  necessary  to  complete  the  last. 
Marguerite  never  knew  the  deception,  though  a  mother’s 
instinct  and  tenderness  took  the  alarm  and  raised  suspicions. 
We  have  never  spoken  freely  on  this  together,  and  like 
you,  she  now  heareth  the  truth  for  the  first  time.” 

“  ’Twas  a  fearful  mystery  between  God  and  my  own 
heart !  ”  murmured  the  woman  ;  “  I  forbore  to  trouble  it  — 
Sigismund,  or  Gaetano,  or  whatever  you  will  have  his 
name,  filled  my  affections,  and  I  strove  to  be  satisfied.  The 
boy  is  dear  to  me,  and  ever  will  be,  though  you  seat  him 
on  a  throne ;  but  Christine  —  the  poor,  stricken  Christine  — 
is  truly  the  child  of  my  bosom  !  ” 

Sigismund  went  and  knelt  at  the  feet  of  her  whom  he 
had  ever  believed  his  mother,  and  earnestly  begged  her 
blessing  and  continued  affection.  The  tears  streamed 
from  Marguerite’s  eyes,  as  she  willingly  bestowed  the 
first,  and  promised  never  to  withhold  the  last. 

“  Hast  thou  any  of  the  trinkets  or  garments  that  were 
given  thee  with  the  child,  or  canst  render  an  account  of 
the  place  where  they  are  still  to  be  found  ?  ”  demanded  the 
Doge,  whose  whole  mind  was  too  deeply  set  on  appeasing 
his  doubts,  to  listen  to  aught  else. 

“  They  are  all  here  in  the  convent.  The  gold  has  been 
fairly  committed  to  Sigismund,  to  form  his  equipment  as  a 
soldier.  The  child  was  kept  apart,  receiving  such  educa¬ 
tion  as  a  learned  priest  could  give,  till  of  an  age  to  serve, 
27 


418 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


and  then  I  sent  him  to  bear  arms  in  Italy,  which  I  knew 
to  be  the  country  of  his  birth,  though  I  never  knew  to 
what  prince  his  allegiance  was  due.  The  time  had  now 
come  when  I  thought  it  due  to  the  youth  to  let  him  know 
the  real  nature  of  the  tie  between  us ;  but  I  shrank  from 
paining  Marguerite  and  myself,  and  I  even  did  his  heart 
the  credit  to  believe  that  he  would  rather  belong  to  us, 
humble  and  despised  though  we  be,  than  find  himself  a 
nameless  outcast,  without  home,  country,  or  parentage.  It 
was  necessary,  however,  to  speak,  and  it  was  my  purpose 
to  reveal  the  truth  here  at  the  convent,  in  the  presence 
of  Christine.  For  this  reason,  and  to  enable  Sigismund  to 
make  inquiries  for  his  family,  the  effects  received  from 
the  unhappy  criminal  with  the  child  were  placed  among 
his  baggage  secretly.  They  are,  at  this  moment,  on  the 
mountain.” 

The  venerable  old  prince  trembled  violently ;  for,  with 
the  intense  feeling  of  one  who  dreaded  that  his  dearest 
hopes  might  yet  be  disappointed,  he  feared,  while  he  most 
wished,  to  consult  these  mute  but  veracious  witnesses. 

“  Let  them  be  produced  !  —  let  them  be  instantly  pro¬ 
duced  and  examined !  ”  he  whispered  eagerly  to  those 
around  him.  Then  turning  slowly  to  the  immovable 
Maso,  he  demanded,  “  And  thou,  man  of  falsehood  and  of 
blood  !  what  dost  thou  reply  to  this  clear  and  probable 
tale  ?  ” 

II  Maledetto  smiled,  as  if  superior  to  a  weakness  that 
had  blinded  the  others.  The  expression  of  his  counte¬ 
nance  was  filled  with  that  look  of  calm  superiority  which 
certainty  gives  to  the  well-informed  over  the  doubting  and 
deceived. 

“  I  have  to  reply,  Signore,  and  honored  father,”  he  coolly 
answered,  “  that  Balthazar  hath  right  cleverly  related  a, 
tale  that  hath  been  ingeniously  devised.  That  I  am  Bar- 
tolo,  I  repeat  to  thee,  can  be  proved  by  a  hundred  living 
tongues  in  Italy.  Thou  best  knowest  who  Bartolo  Con- 
tini  is,  Doge  of  Genoa.” 

“  He  speaks  the  truth,”  returned  the  prince,  dropping 
his  head  in  disappointment.  “  Oh  !  Melchoir,  I  have  had 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


419 


but  too  sure  proofs  of  what  he  intimates  !  I  have  long 
been  certain  that  this  wretched  Bartolo  is  my  son,  though 
never  before  have  I  been  cursed  with  his  presence.  Bad 
as  I  was  taught  to  think  of  him,  my  worst  fears  had  not 
painted  him  as  I  now  find  the  truth  would  warrant.” 

“  Has  there  not  been  some  fraud  —  art  thou  not  the  dupe 
of  some  conspiracy  of  which  money  has  been  the  object?” 

The  Doge  shook  his  head,  in  a  way  to  prove  that  he 
could  not  possibly  flatter  himself  with  such  a  hope. 

“  Never ;  my  offers  of  money  have  always  been  re¬ 
jected.” 

“  Why  should  I  take  the  gold  of  my  father  ?  ”  added  II 
Maledetto ;  “  my  own  skill  and  courage  more  than  suffice 
for  my  wants.” 

The  nature  of  the  answer,  and  the  composed  demeanor 
of  Maso,  produced  an  embarrassing  pause. 

“  Let  the  two  stand  forth  and  be  confronted,”  said  the 
puzzled  clavier  at  length  ;  “  nature  often  reveals  the  truth 
when  the  uttermost  powers  of  man  are  at  fault  —  if  either 
is  the  true  child  of  the  prince,  we  should  find  some  resem¬ 
blance  to  the  father  to  support  his  claim.” 

The  test,  though  of  doubtful  virtue,  was  eagerly  adopted, 
for  the  truth  had  now  become  so  involved,  as  to  excite  a 
keen  interest  in  all  present.  The  desire  to  explain  the 
mystery  was  general,  and  the  slightest  means  of  attaining 
such  an  end  became  of  a  value  proportionate  to  the  diffi¬ 
culty  of  effecting  the  object.  Sigismund  and  Maso  were 
placed  beneath  the  lamp,  where  its  light  was  strongest,  and 
every  eye  turned  eagerly  to  their  countenances,  in  order  to 
discover,  or  to  fancy  it  discovered,  some  of  those  secret 
signs  by  which  the  mysterious  affinities  of  nature  are  to  be 
traced.  A  more  puzzling  examination  could  not  well  have 
been  essayed.  There  was  proof  to  give  the  victory  to  each 
of  the  pretenders,  if  such  a  term  may  be  used  with  propri¬ 
ety  as  it  concerns  the  passive  Sigismund,  and  much  to  de¬ 
feat  the  claims  of  the  latter.  In  the  olive-colored  tint, 
the  dark,  rich,  rolling  eye,  and  in  stature,  the  advantage 
was  altogether  with  Maso,  whose  outline  of  countenance 
and  penetrating  expression  had  also  a  resemblance  to  those 


420 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  the  Doge,  so  marked  as  to  render  it  quite  apparent  to 
any  who  wished  to  find  it.  The  habits  of  the  mariner  had 
probably  diminished  the  likeness,  but  it  was  too  obviously 
there  to  escape  detection.  That  hardened  and  rude  appear¬ 
ance,  the  consequence  of  exposure,  which  rendered  it  diffi¬ 
cult  to  pronounce  within  ten  years  of  his  real  age,  contrib¬ 
uted  a  little  to  conceal  what  may  be  termed  the  latent 
character  of  his  countenance,  but  the  features  themselves 
were  undeniably  a  rude  copy  of  the  more  polished  linea¬ 
ments  of  the  prince. 

The  case  was  less  clear  as  respects  Sigismund.  The  ad¬ 
vantage  of  ruddy  and  vigorous  youth  rendered  him  such  a 
resemblance  of  the  Doge  —  in  the  points  where  it  existed 
— •  as  we  find  between  the  aged  and  those  portraits  which 
have  been  painted  in  their  younger  and  happier  days.  The 
bold  outline  was  not  unlike  that  of  the  noble  features  of 
the  venerable  prince,  but  neither  the  eye,  the  hair,  nor  the 
complexion  had  the  hues  of  Italy. 

“  Thou  seest,”  said  Maso,  tauntingly,  when  the  disap¬ 
pointed  clavier  admitted  the  differences  in  the  latter  partic¬ 
ulars,  “  this  is  an  imposition  that  will  not  pass.  I  swear  to 
you,  as  there  is  faith  in  man,  and  hope  for  the  dying  Chris¬ 
tian,  that  so  far  as  any  know  their  parentage,  I  am  the 
child  of  Gaetano  Grimaldi,  the  present  Doge  of  Genoa, 
and  of  no  other  man  !  May  the  saints  desert  me  !  —  the 
blessed  Mother  of  God  be  deaf  to  my  prayers  !  —  and  all 
men  hunt  me  with  their  curses,  if  I  say  aught  in  this  but 
holy  truth  !  ” 

The  fearful  energy  with  which  Maso  uttered  this  solemn 
appeal,  and  a  certain  sincerity  that  marked  his  manner,  and 
perhaps  we  might  even  say  his  character,  in  spite  of  the 
dissolute  recklessness  of  his  principles,  served  greatly  to 
weaken  the  growing  opinion  in  favor  of  his  competitor. 

“  And  this  noble  youth  ?  ”  asked  the  sorrowing  Doge  — 
“  this  generous  and  elevated  boy,  whom  I  have  already  held 
next  to  my  heart,  with  so  much  of  a  father’s  joy  —  who 
and  what  is  he  ?  ” 

“  Eccellenza,  I  wish  to  say  nothing  against  the  Signor 
Sigismondo.  He  is  a  gallant  swimmer,  and  a  staunch  sup- 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


421 


port-  in  time  of  need.  Be  he  Swiss  or  Genoese,  either  coun¬ 
try  may  be  proud  of  him  ;  but  self-love  teaches  us  all  to 
take  care  of  our  own  interests  before  those  of  another 
It  would  be  far  pleasanter  to  dwell  in  the  Palazzo  Gri¬ 
maldi,  on  our  warm  and  sunny  gulf,  honored  and  esteemed 
as  the  heir  of  a  noble  name,  than  to  be  cutting  heads  in 
Berne  ;  and  honest  Balthazar  does  but  follow  his  instinct, 
in  seeking  preferment  for  his  son  !  ” 

Each  eye  now  turned  on  the  headsman,  who  quailed  not 
under  the  scrutiny,  but  maintained  the  firm  front  of  one 
conscious  that  he  had  done  no  wrong. 

“  I  have  not  said  that  Sigismund  is  the  child  of  any,”  he 
answered  in  his  meek  manner,  but  with  a  steadiness  that 
won  him  credit  with  the  listeners.  “  I  have  only  said  that 
he  belongs  not  to  me.  No  father  need  wish  a  worthier  son, 
and  Heaven  knows  that  I  yield  my  own  claims  with  a  sor¬ 
row  that  it  would  be  grievous  to  bear,  did  I  not  hope  a  bet¬ 
ter  fortune  for  him  than  any  which  can  come  from  a  con¬ 
nection  with  a  race  accursed.  The  likeness  which  is  seen 
in  Maso,  and  which  Sigismund  is  thought  to  want,  proves 
little,  noble  gentlemen  and  reverend  monks ;  for  all  who 
have  looked  closely  into  these  matters  know  that  resem¬ 
blances  are  as  often  found  between  the  distant  branches  of 
the  same  family,  as  between  those  who  are  more  nearly 
united.  Sigismund  is  not  of  us,  and  none  can  see  any  trace 
of  either  my  own  or  of  Marguerite's  family  in  his  person 
or  features.” 

Balthazar  paused  that  there  might  be  an  examination  of 
this  fact,  and,  in  truth,  the  most  ingenious  fancy  could  not 
have  detected  the  least  affinity  in  looks,  between  either  of 
those  whom  he  had  so  long  thought  his  parents  and  the 
young  soldier. 

“  Let  the  Doge  of  Genoa  question  his  memory,  and  look 
further  than  himself.  Can  he  find  no  sleeping  smile,  no 
color  of  the  hair,  nor  any  other  common  point  of  appear¬ 
ance,  between  the  youth  and  some  of  those  whom  he  once 
knew  and  loved  ?  ” 

The  anxious  prince  turned  eagerly  towards  Sigismund, 
and  a  gleam  of  joy  lighted  his  face  again,  as  he  studied  the 
young  man’s  features. 


422 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  By  San  Francesco  !  Melchior,  the  honest  Balthazar 
is  right.  My  grandmother  was  a  Venetian,  and  she  had  the 
fair  hair  of  the  boy  —  the  eye,  too,  is  hers  —  and  —  oh  !  ” 
bending  his  head  aside  and  veiling  his  eyes  with  his  hand, 
“  I  see  the  anxious  gaze  that  was  so  constant  in  the  sainted 
and  injured  Angiolina,  after  my  greater  wealth  and  power 
had  tempted  her  kinsmen  to  force  her  to  yield  an  unwill¬ 
ing  hand  !  Wretch  !  thou  art  not  Bartolo  ;  thy  tale  is  a 
wicked  deception,  invented  to  shield  thee  from  the  punish¬ 
ment  due  to  thy  crime  !  ” 

“  Admitting  that  I  am  not  Bartolo,  eccellenza,  does  the 
Signor  Sigismondo  claim  to  be  he  ?  Have  you  not  assured 
yourself  that  a  certain  Bartolo  Contini,  a  man  whose  life  is 
passed  in  open  hostility  to  the  laws,  is  your  child  ?  Did 
you  not  employ  your  confidant  and  secretary  to  learn  the 
facts  ?  Did  he  not  hear  from  the  dying  lips  of  a  holy 
priest,  who  knew  all  the  circumstances,  that  ‘  Bartolo  Con- 
tini  is  the  son  of  Gaetano  Grimaldi  ’  ?  Did  not  the  con¬ 
federate  of  your  implacable  enemy,  Cristofero  Serrani, 
swear  the  same  to  you  ?  Have  you  not  seen  papers  that 
were  taken  with  your  child  to  confirm  it  all,  and  did  you 
not  send  this  signet  as  a  gage  that  Bartolo  should  not  want 
your  aid,  in  any  strait  that  might  occur  in  his  wild  manner 
of  living,  when  you  learned  that  he  resolutely  preferred 
remaining  what  he  was,  to  becoming  an  image  of  sickly  re¬ 
pentance  and  newly-assumed  nobility,  in  your  gorgeous  pal¬ 
ace  on  the  Strada  Balbi  ?  ” 

The  Doge  again  bowed  his  head  in  dismay,  for  all  this 
he  knew  to  be  true  beyond  a  shadow  of  hope. 

“  Here  is  some  sad  mistake,”  he  said  with  bitter  regret. 
“  Thou  hast  received  the  child  of  some  other  bereaved 
parent,  Balthazar  ;  but,  though  I  cannot  hope  to  prove  my¬ 
self  the  natural  father  of  Sigismund,  he  shall  at  least  find 
me  one  in  affection  and  good  offices.  If  his  life  be  not  due 
to  me,  I  owe  him  mine  ;  the  debt  shall  form  a  tie  between 
us  little  short  of  that  to  which  nature  herself  could  give 
birth.” 

“  Herr  Doge,”  returned  the  earnest  headsman,  u  let  us 
not  be  too  hasty.  If  there  are  strong  facts  in  favor  of  the 


TIIE  HEADSMAN. 


428 


claims  of  Maso,  there  are  many  circumstances,  also,  in  favor 
of  those  of  Sigismund.  To  me,  the  history  of  the  last  is 
probably  more  clear  than  it  can  be  to  any  other.  The 
time,  the  country,  the  age  of  the  child,  the  name,  and  the 
fearful  revelations  of  the  criminal,  are  all  strong  proofs  in 
Sigismund’s  behalf.  Here  are  the  effects  that  were  given 
me  with  the  child  ;  it  is  possible  that  they,  too,  may  throw 
weight  into  his  scale.” 

Balthazar  had  taken  means  to  procure  the  package  in 
question  from  among  the  luggage  of  Sigismund,  and  he  now 
proceeded  to  expose  its  contents,  while  a  breathless  silence 
betrayed  the  interest  with  which  the  result  was  expected. 
He  first  laid  upon  the  pavement  of  the  chapel  a  collection  of 
child’s  clothing.  The  articles  were  rich,  and  according  to 
the  fashions  of  the  times  ;  but  they  contained  no  positive 
proofs  that  could  go  to  substantiate  the  origin  of  the 
wearer,  except  as  they  raised  the  probability  of  his  having 
come  of  an  elevated  rank  in  life.  As  the  different  objects 
were  placed  upon  the  stones,  Adelheid  and  Christine 
kneeled  beside  them,  each  too  intently  absorbed  with  the 
progress  of  the  inquiry  to  bethink  themselves  of  those 
forms  which,  in  common,  throw  a  restraint  upon  the  man¬ 
ners  of  their  sex.  The  latter  appeared  to  forget  her  own 
sorrows,  for  a  moment,  in  a  new-born  interest  in  her 
brother’s  fortunes,  while  the  ears  of  the  former  drank  in 
each  syllable  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  different  speak¬ 
ers,  with  an  avidity  that  her  strong  sympathy  with  the 
youth  could  alone  give. 

“  Here  is  a  case  containing  trinkets  of  value,”  added 
Balthazar.  “  The  condemned  man  said  they  were  taken 
through  ignorance,  and  he  was  accustomed  to  suffer  the 
child  to  amuse  himself  with  them  in  the  prison.” 

“  These  were  my  first  offerings  to  my  wife,  in  return  for 
the  gift  she  had  made  me  of  the  precious  babe,”  said  the 
Doge,  in  such  a  smothered  voice  as  we  are  apt  to  use  when 
examining  objects  that  recall  the  presence  of  the  dead. 
“  Blessed  Angiolina  !  these  jewels  are  so  many  tokens  of 
thy  pale  but  happy  countenance  ;  thou  felt  a  mother’s  joy 
at  that  sacred  moment,  and  could  even  smile  on  me  !  ” 


424 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  And  here  is  a  talisman  in  sapphire,  with  many  Eastern 
characters  ;  I  was  told  it  had  been  an  heir-loom  in  the  fam¬ 
ily  of  the  child,  and  was  put  about  his  neck  at  the  birth  by 
the  hands  of  its  own  father.” 

“  I  ask  no  more  —  I  ask  no  more !  God  be  praised  for 
this,  the  last  and  best  of  all  his  mercies !  ”  cried  the  prince, 
clasping  his  hands  with  devotion.  “  This  jewel  was  worn 
by  myself  in  infancy,  and  I  placed  it  around  the  neck  of 
the  babe  with  my  own  hands,  as  thou  sayest  —  I  ask  no 
more.” 

“  And  Bartolo  Contini !  ”  uttered  II  Maledetto. 

“  Maso  !  ”  exclaimed  a  voice,  which  until  then  had  been 
mute  in  the  chapel.  It  was  Adelheid  who  had  spoken. 
Her  hair  had  fallen  in  wild  profusion  over  her  shoulders, 
as  she  still  knelt  over  the  articles  on  the  pavement,  and  her 
hands  were  clasped  entreatingly,  as  if  she  deprecated  the 
rude  interruptions  which  had  so  often  dashed  the  cup  from 
their  lips,  as  they  were  about  to  yield  to  the  delight  of  be¬ 
lieving  Sigismund  to  be  the  child  of  the  Prince  of  Genoa. 

“  Thou  art  another  of  a  fond  and  weak  sex,  to  swell  the 
list  of  confiding  spirits  that  have  been  betrayed  by  the  self¬ 
ishness  and  falsehood  of  men,”  answered  the  mocking  mari¬ 
ner.  Go  to,  girl !  —  make  thyself  a  nun  ;  thy  Sigismund 
is  an  impostor.” 

Adelheid,  by  a  quick  and  decided  interposition  of  her 
hand,  prevented  an  impetuous  movement  of  the  young  sol¬ 
dier,  who  would  have  struck  his  audacious  rival  to  his  feet. 
Without  changing  her  kneeling  attitude,  she  then  spoke, 
modestly  but  with  a  firmness  which  generous  sentiments 
enable  women  to  assume  even  more  readily  than  the 
stronger  sex,  when  extraordinary  occasions  call  for  the  sac¬ 
rifice  of  that  reserve  in  which  her  feebleness  is  ordinarily 
intrenched. 

“  I  know  not,  Maso,  in  what  manner  thou  hast  learned 
the  tie  which  connects  me  with  Sigismund,”  she  said  ; 
“  but  I  have  no  longer  any  wish  to  conceal  it.  Be  he 
the  son  of  Balthazar,  or  be  he  the  son  of  a  prince,  he  has 
received  my  troth  with  the  consent  of  my  honored  father, 
and  our  fortunes  will  shortly  be  one.  There  might  be 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


425 


forwardness  in  a  maiden  thus  openly  avowing  her  prefer¬ 
ence  for  a  youth  ;  but  here,  with  none  to  own  him,  op¬ 
pressed  with  his  long-endured  wrongs,  and  assailed  in  his 
most  sacred  affections,  Sigismund  has  a  right  to  my  voice. 
Let  him  belong  to  whom  else  he  may,  I  speak  by  my  ven¬ 
erable  father’s  authority,  when  I  say  he  belongs  to  us.” 

“  Melchior,  is  this  true  ?  ”  cried  the  Doge. 

“  The  girl’s  words  are  but  an  echo  of  what  my  heart 
feels,”  answered  the  baron,  looking  about  him  proudly,  as 
if  he  would  browbeat  any  who  should  presume  to  think 
that  he  had  consented  to  corrupt  the  blood  of  Willading 
by  the  measure. 

“  I  have  watched  thine  eye,  Maso,  as  one  nearly  in¬ 
terested  in  the  truth,”  continued  Adelheid,  “and  I  now 
appeal  to  thee,  as  thou  lovest  thine  own  soul,  to  disburden 
thyself  !  While  thou  mayst  have  told  some  truth,  the 
jealous  affection  of  a  woman  has  revealed  to  me  that  thou 
hast  kept  back  part.  Speak,  then,  and  relieve  the  soul  of 
this  venerable  prince  from  torture.” 

“  And  deliver  my  own  body  to  the  wheel !  This  may 
be  well  to  the  warm  imagination  of  a  lovesick  girl,  but  we 
of  the  contraband  have  too  much  practice  in  men  uselessly 
to  throw  away  an  advantage.” 

“  Thou  mayst  have  confidence  in  our  faith.  I  have 
seen  much  of  thee  within  the  last  few  days,  Maso,  and  I 
wish  not  to  think  thee  capable  of  the  bloody  deed  that 
hath  been  committed  on  the  mountain,  though  I  fear  thy 
life  is  only  too  ungoverned ;  still  I  will  not  believe  that 
the  hero  of  the  Leman  can  be  the  assassin  of  St.  Bernard.” 

“  When  thy  young  dreams  are  over,  fair  one,  and  thou 
seest  the  world  under  its  true  colors,  thou  wilt  know  that 
the  hearts  of  men  come  partly  of  heaven  and  partly  of 
hell.” 

Maso  laughed  in  his  most  reckless  manner,  as  he  deliv¬ 
ered  this  opinion. 

“  ’Tis  useless  to  deny  that  thou  hast  sympathies,”  con¬ 
tinued  the  maiden  steadily  ;  “  thou  hast  in  secret  more 
pleasure  in  serving  than  in  injuring  thy  race.  Thou  canst 
not  have  been  in  such  straits  in  company  with  the  Signor 


426 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


Sigismondo,  without  imbibing  some  touch  of  his  noble 
generosity.  You  have  struggled  together  for  our  common 
good,  you  come  of  the  same  God,  have  the  same  manly 
courage,  are  equally  stout  of  heart,  strong  of  hand,  and 
willing  to  do  for  others.  Such  a  heart  must  have  enough 
of  noble  and  human  impulses  to  cause  you  to  love  justice. 
Speak,  then,  and  I  pledge  our  sacred  word,  that  thou  slialt 
fare  better  for  thy  candor  than  by  taking  refuge  in  thy  pres¬ 
ent  fraud.  Bethink  thee,  Maso,  that  the  happiness  of  this 
aged  man,  of  Sigismund  himself,  if  thou  wilt,  for  I  blush  not 
to  say  it  —  of  a  weak  and  affectionate  girl,  is  in  thy  keeping. 
Give  us  truth,  holy,  sacred  truth,  and  we  pardon  the  past.” 

II  Maledetto  was  moved  by  the  beautiful  earnestness  of 
the  speaker.  Her  ingenuous  interest  in  the  result,  with 
the  solemnity  of  the  appeal,  shook  his  purpose. 

“  Thou  know’st  not  what  thou  say’st,  lady ;  thou  ask’st 
my  life,”  he  answered,  after  pondering  in  a  way  to  give  a 
new  impulse  to  the  dying  hopes  of  the  Doge. 

“  Though  there  is  no  quality  more  sacred  than  justice,” 
interposed  the  chatelain,  who  alone  could  speak  with  au¬ 
thority  in  the  Valais,  “  it  is  fairly  within  the  province  of 
her  servants  to  permit  her  to  go  unexpiated,  in  order  that 
greater  good  may  come  of  the  sacrifice.  If  thou  wilt 
prove  aught  that  is  of  grave  importance  to  the  interests  of 
the  Prince  of  Genoa,  Valais  owes  it  to  the  love  it  bears 
his  republic  to  requite  the  service.” 

Maso  listened,  at  first,  with  a  cold  ear.  He  felt  the  dis¬ 
trust  of  one  who  had  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  world  to 
be  acquainted  with  the  thousand  expedients  that  were  re¬ 
sorted  to  by  men,  in  order  to  justify  their  daily  want  of  faith. 
He  questioned  the  chatelain  closely  as  to  his  meaning,  nor 
was  it  till  a  late  hour,  and  after  long  and  weary  explana¬ 
tions  on  both  sides,  that  the  parties  came  to  an  under¬ 
standing. 

On  the  part  of  those  who,  on  this  occasion,  were  the 
representatives  of  that  high  attribute  of  the  Deity  which 
among  men  is  termed  justice,  it  was  sufficiently  apparent 
that  they  understood  its  exercise  with  certain  reservations 
that  might  be  made  at  pleasure  in  favor  of  their  own  views ; 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


427 


and,  on  the  part  of  Maso,  there  was  no  attempt  to  conceal 
the  suspicions  he  entertained  to  the  last,  that  he  might  be 
a  sufferer  by  lessening  in  any  degree  the  strength  of  the 
defenses  by  which  he  was  at  present  shielded,  as  the  son, 
real  or  fancied,  of  a  person  so  powerful  as  the  Prince  of 
Genoa. 

As  usually  happens  when  there  is  a  mutual  wish  to  avoid 
extremities,  and  when  conflicting  interests  are  managed  with 
equal  address,  the  negotiation  terminated  in  a  compromise. 
As  the  result  will  be  shown  in  the  regular  course  of  the 
narrative,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  closing  chapter  for 
the  explanation. 


428 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Speak,  oh,  speak! 

And  take  me  from  the  rack. 

Young. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  three  days  were  passed  in  the 
convent  in  that  interval  which  occurred  between  the  arrival 
of  the  travellers  and  those  of  the  chatelain  and  the  bailiff*. 
The  determination  of  admitting  the  claims  of  Sigismund,  so 
frankly  announced  by  Adelheid  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
was  taken  during  this  time.  Separated  from  the  world,  and 
amid  that  magnificent  solitude  where  the  passions  and  the 
vulgar  interests  of  life  sank  into  corresponding  insignificance 
as  the  majesty  of  God  became  hourly  more  visible,  the 
baron  had  been  gradually  won  upon  to  consent.  Love  for 
his  child,  aided  by  the  fine  moral  and  personal  qualities  of 
the  young  man  himself,  which  here  stood  out  in  strong  re¬ 
lief,  like  one  of  the  stern  piles  of  those  Alps  that  now  ap¬ 
pear  to  his  eyes  so  much  superior,  in  their  eternal  beds,  to 
all  the  vine-clad  hills  and  teeming  valleys  of  the  lower 
world,  had  been  the  immediate  and  efficient  agents  in  pro¬ 
ducing  this  decision.  It  is  not  pretended  that  the  Bernese 
made  an  easy  conquest  over  his  prejudices,  which  was  in 
truth  no  other  than  a  conquest  over  himself,  he  being, 
morally  considered,  little  other  than  a  collection  of  the  nar¬ 
row  opinions  and  exclusive  doctrines  which  it  was  then  the 
fashion  to  believe  necessary  to  high  civilization.  On  the 
contrary,  the  struggle  had  been  severe  ;  nor  is  it  probable 
that  the  gentle  blandishments  of  Adelheid,  the  eloquent  but 
silent  appeals  to  his  reason  that  were  constantly  made  by 
Sigismund  in  his  deportment,  or  the  arguments  of  his  old 
comrade,  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  who,  with  a  philosophy  that 
is  more  often  made  apparent  in  our  friendships  than  in  our 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


429 


practice,  dilated  copiously  on  the  wisdom  of  sacrificing  a 
few  worthless  and  antiquated  opinions  to  the  happiness  of 
an  only  child,  would  have  prevailed,  had  the  baron  been  in 
a  situation  less  abstracted  from  the  ordinary  circumstances 
of  his  rank  and  habits,  than  that  in  which  he  had  been  so 
accidentally  thrown.  The  pious  clavier,  too,  who  had  ob¬ 
tained  some  claims  to  the  confidence  of  the  guests  of  the 
convent  by  his  services,  and  by  the  risks  he  had  run  in  their 
company,  came  to  swell  the  number  of  Sigismund’s  friends. 
Of  humble  origin  himself,  and  attached  to  the  young  man 
not  only  by  his  general  merits,  but  by  his  conduct  on  the 
lake,  he  neglected  no  good  occasion  to  work  upon  Mel¬ 
chior’s  mind,  after  he  himself  had  become  acquainted  with 
the  nature  of  the  young  man’s  hopes.  As  they  paced  the 
brown  and  naked  rocks  together,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  con¬ 
vent,  the  Augustine  discoursed  on  the  perishable  nature  of 
human  hopes,  and  on  the  frailty  of  human  opinions.  He 
dwelt  with  pious  fervor  on  the  usefulness  of  recalling  the 
thoughts  from  the  turmoil  of  daily  and  contracted  interests, 
to  a  wider  view  of  the  truths  of  existence.  Pointing  to  the 
wild  scene  around  him,  he  likened  the  confused  masses  of 
the  mountains,  their  sterility,  and  their  ruthless  tempests,  to 
the  world  with  its  want  of  happy  fruits,  its  disorders,  and  its 
violence.  Then  directing  the  attention  of  his  companion 
to  the  azure  vault  above  him,  which,  seen  at  that  elevation, 
and  in  that  pure  atmosphere,  resembled  a  benign  canopy  of 
the  softest  tints  and  colors,  he  made  glowing  appeals  to  the 
eternal  and  holy  tranquillity  of  the  state  of  being  to  which 
they  were  both  fast  hastening,  and  which  had  its  type  in 
the  mysterious  and  imposing  calm  of  that  tranquil  and 
illimitable  void.  He  drew  his  moral  in  favor  of  a  measured 
enjoyment  of  our  advantages  here,  as  well  as  of  rendering 
love  and  justice  to  all  who  merited  our  esteem,  and  to  the 
disadvantage  of  those  iron  prejudices  which  confine  the  best 
sentiments  in  the  fetters  of  opinions  founded  in  the  ordi¬ 
nances  and  provisions  of  the  violent  and  selfish. 

It  was  after  one  of  these  interesting  dialogues  that  Mel¬ 
chior  de  Willading,  his  heart  softened  and  his  soul  touched 
with  the  hopes  of  heaven,  listened  with  a  more  indulgent 


480 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


ear  to  the  firm  declaration  of  Adelheid,  that  unless  she  be¬ 
came  the  wife  of  Sigismund,  her  self-respect,  no  less  than 
her  affections,  must  compel  her  to  pass  her  life  unmarried. 
We  shall  not  say  that  the  maiden  herself  philosophized  on 
premises  as  sublime  as  those  of  the  good  monk,  for  with  her 
the  warm  impulses  of  the  heart  lay  at  the  bottom  of  her 
resolution  ;  but  even  she  had  the  respectable  support  of 
reason  to  sustain  her  cause.  The  baron  had  that  innate 
desire  to  perpetuate  his  own  existence  in  that  of  his  descend¬ 
ants,  which  appears  to  be  a  property  of  nature.  Alarmed 
at  a  declaration  which  threatened  annihilation  to  his  line, 
while  at  the  same  time  he  was  more  than  usually  under  the 
influence  of  his  better  feelings,  he  promised  that  if  the 
charge  of  murder  could  be  removed  from  Balthazar,  he 
would  no  longer  oppose  the  union.  We  should  be  giving 
the  reader  an  opinion  a  little  too  favorable  of  Herr  von 
Willading,  were  we  to  say  that  he  did  not  repent  having 
made  this  promise  soon  after  it  was  uttered.  He  was  in  a 
state  of  mind  that  resembled  the  vanes  of  his  own  towers, 
which  changed  their  direction  with  every  fresh  current  of 
air,  but  he  was  by  far  too  honorable  to  think  seriously  of 
violating  a  faith  that  he  had  once  fairly  plighted.  He  had 
moments  of  unpleasant  misgivings  as  to  the  wisdom  and 
propriety  of  his  promise,  but  they  were  of  that  species  of 
regret  which  is  known  to  attend  an  unavoidable  evil.  If 
he  had  any  expectations  of  being  released  from  his  pledge, 
they  were  bottomed  on  certain  vague  impressions  that 
Balthazar  would  be  found  guilty,  though  the  constant  and 
earnest  asseverations  of  Sigismund  in  favor  of  his  father  had 
greatly  succeeded  in  shaking  his  faith  on  this  point. 
Adelheid  had  stronger  hopes  than  either  ;  the  fears  of  the 
young  man  himself  preventing  him  from  fully  participating 
in  her  confidence,  while  her  father  shared  her  expectations 
on  that  tormenting  principle  which  causes  us  to  dread  the 
worst.  When,  therefore,  the  jewelry  of  Jacques  Colis  was 
found  in  the  possession  of  Maso,  and  Balthazar  was  unani¬ 
mously  acquitted,  not  only  from  this  circumstance,  which 
went  so  conclusively  to  criminate  another,  but  from  the 
want  of  any  other  evidence  against  him  than  the  fact  of  his 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


431 


being  found  in  the  bone-house  instead  of  the  Refuge,  an 
accident  that  might  well  have  happened  to  any  other 
traveller  in  the  storm,  the  baron  resolutely  prepared  him¬ 
self  to  redeem  his  pledge.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add 
how  much  this  honorable  sentiment  was  strengthened  by 
the  unexpected  declaration  of  the  headsman  concerning  the 
birth  of  Sigismund.  Notwithstanding  the  asseveration  of 
Maso  that  the  whole  was  an  invention  conceived  to  favor 
the  son  of  Balthazar,  it  was  supported  by  proofs  so  sub¬ 
stantial  and  palpable,  to  say  nothing  of  the  natural  and 
veracious  manner  in  which  the  tale  was  related,  as  to  create 
a  strong  probability  in  the  minds  of  the  witnesses  that  it 
might  be  true.  Although  it  remained  to  be  discovered  who 
were  the  real  parents  of  Sigismund,  few  now  believed  that 
he  owed  his  existence  to  the  headsman. 

A  short  summary  of  the  facts  may  aid  the  reader  in 
better  understanding  the  circumstances  on  which  so  much 
denouement  depends. 

It  has  been  revealed  in  the  course  of  the  narrative  that 
the  Signor  Grimaldi  had  wedded  a  lady  younger  than 
himself,  whose  affections  were  already  in  the  possession  of 
one  that,  in  moral  qualities,  was  unworthy  of  her  love,  but 
who  in  other  respects  was  perhaps  better  suited  to  become 
her  husband,  than  the  powerful  noble  to  whom  her  family 
had  given  her  hand.  The  birth  of  their  son  was  soon 
followed  by  the  death  of  the  mother,  and  the  abduction  of 
the  child.  Years  had  passed,  when  the  Signor  Grimaldi 
was  first  apprised  of  the  existence  of  the  latter.  He  had 
received  this  important  information  at  a  moment  when  the 
authorities  of  Genoa  were  most  active  in  pursuing  those 
who  had  long  and  desperately  trifled  with  the  laws,  and 
the  avowed  motive  for  the  revelation  was  an  appeal  to  his 
natural  affection  in  behalf  of  a  son,  who  was  likely  to 
become  a  victim  of  his  practices.  The  recovery  of  a  child 
under  such  circumstances  was  a  blow  severer  than  his  loss, 
and  it  will  readily  be  supposed  that  the  truth  of  the  pre¬ 
tensions  of  Maso,  who  then  went  by  the  name  of  Barto¬ 
lomeo  Contini,  was  admitted  with  the  greatest  caution. 
Reference  had  been  made  by  the  friends  of  the  smuggler 


432 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


to  a  dying  monk,  whose  character  was  above  suspicion, 
and  who  corroborated,  with  his  latest  breath,  the  state¬ 
ment  of  Maso,  by  affirming  before  God  and  the  saints  that 
he  knew  him,  so  far  as  men  could  know  a  fact  like  this,  to 
be  the  son  of  Signor  Grimaldi.  This  grave  testimony, 
given  under  circumstances  of  such  solemnity,  and  sup¬ 
ported  by  the  production  of  important  papers  that  had 
been  stolen  with  the  child,  removed  the  suspicions  of  the 
Doge.  He  secretly  interposed  his  interest  to  save  the 
criminal,  though,  after  a  fruitless  attempt  to  effect  a  refor¬ 
mation  of  his  habits  by  means  of  confidential  agents,  he 
had  never  consented  to  see  him. 

Such  then  was  the  nature  of  the  conflicting  statements. 
While  hope,  and  the  pure  delight  of  finding  himself  the 
father  of  a  son  like  Sigismund,  caused  the  aged  prince  to 
cling  to  the  claims  of  the  young  soldier  with  fond  pertinac¬ 
ity,  his  cooler  and  more  deliberate  judgment  had  already 
been  formed  in  favor  of  another.  In  the  long  private 
examination  which  succeeded  the  scene  in  the  chapel, 
Maso  had  gradually  drawn  more  into  himself,  becoming 
vague  and  mysterious,  until  he  succeeded  in  exciting  a 
most  painful  state  of  doubt  and  expectation  in  all  who 
witnessed  his  deportment.  Profiting  by  this  advantage,  he 
suddenly  changed  his  tactics.  He  promised  revelations 
of  importance,  on  the  condition  that  he  should  first  be 
placed  in  security  within  the  frontiers  of  Piedmont.  The 
prudent  chatelain  soon  saw  that  the  case  was  getting  to 
be  one  in  which  Justice  was  expected  to  be  blind  in  the 
more  politic  signification  of  the  term.  He  therefore 
drew  off  his  loquacious  coadjutor,  the  bailiff,  in  a  way  to 
leave  the  settlement  of  the  affair  to  the  feelings  and 
wishes  of  the  Doge.  The  latter,  by  the  aid  of  Melchoir 
and  Sigismund,  soon  effected  an  understanding,  in  which 
the  conditions  of  the  mariner  were  admitted ;  when  the 
party  separated  for  the  night.  II  Maledetto,  on  whom 
weighed  the  entire  load  of  Jacques  Colis’  murder,  was 
again  committed  to  his  temporary  prison,  while  Balthazar, 
Pippo,  and  Conrad  were  permitted  to  go  at  large,  as  hav¬ 
ing  successfully  passed  the  ordeal  of  examination. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


483 


Day  dawned  upon  the  Col  long  ere  the  shades  of  night 
had  deserted  the  valley  of  the  Rhone.  All  in  the  convent 
were  in  motion  before  the  appearance  of  the  sun,  it  being 
generally  understood  that  the  events  which  had  so  much 
disturbed  the  order  of  its  peaceful  inmates’  lives,  were  to 
be  brought  finally  to  a  close,  and  that  their  duties  were 
about  to  return  into  the  customary  channels.  Orisons  are 
constantly  ascending  to  heaven  from  the  pass  of  St.  Ber¬ 
nard,  but  on  the  present  occasion  the  stir  in  and  about 
the  chapel,  the  manner  in  which  the  good  canons  hurried 
to  and  fro  through  the  long  corridors,  and  the  general  air 
of  excitement,  proclaimed  that  the  offices  of  the  matins 
possessed  more  than  the  usual  interest  of  the  regular  daily 
devotion. 

The  hour  was  still  early  when  all  on  the  pass  assembled 
in  the  place  of  worship.  The  body  of  Jacques  Colis  had 
been  removed  to  a  side  chapel,  where,  covered  with  a  pall, 
it  awaited  the  mass  for  the  dead.  Two  large  church 
candles  stood  lighted  on  the  steps  of  the  great  altar,  and 
the  spectators,  including  Pierre  and  the  muleteers,  the 
servants  of  the  convent,  and  others  of  every  rank  and  age, 
were  drawn  up  in  double  files  in  its  front.  Among  the 
silent  spectators  appeared  Balthazar  and  his  wife,  Maso,  in 
truth  a  prisoner,  but  with  the  air  of  a  liberated  man,  the 
pilgrim,  and  Pippo.  The  good  prior  was  present  in  his 
robes,  with  all  of  his  community.  During  the  moments  of 
suspense  which  preceded  the  rites,  he  discoursed  civilly 
with  the  chatelain  and  bailiff,  both  of  whom  returned  his 
courtesies  with  interest,  and  in  the  manner  in  which  it  be¬ 
comes  the  dignified  and  honored  to  respect  appearances  in 
the  presence  of  their  inferiors.  Still  the  demeanor  of 
most  was  feverish  and  excited,  as  if  the  occasion  were  one 
of  compelled  gayety,  into  which  unwelcome,  and  extraor¬ 
dinary  circumstances  of  alloy  had  thrust  themselves  un¬ 
bidden. 

On  the  opening  of  the  door  a  little  procession  entered, 
headed  by  the  clavier.  Melchior  de  Willading  led  his 
daughter,  Sigismund  came  next,  followed  by  Marguerite 

and  Christine,  and  the  venerable  Doge  brought  up  the 
28 


434 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


rear.  Simple  as  was  this  wedding  train,  it  was  imposing 
from  the  dignity  of  the  principal  actors,  and  from  the  evi¬ 
dences  of  deep  feeling  with  which  all  in  it  advanced  to  the 
altar.  Sigismnnd  was  firm  and  self-possessed.  Still  his 
carriage  was  lofty  and  proud,  as  if  he  felt  that  a  cloud  still 
hung  over  that  portion  of  his  history  to  which  the  world 
attached  so  much  importance,  and  he  had  fallen  back  on 
his  character  and  principles  for  support.  Adelheid  had 
lately  been  so  much  the  subject  of  strong  emotions,  that 
she  presented  herself  before  the  priest  with  less  trepida¬ 
tion  than  was  usual  for  a  maiden ;  but  the  fixed  regard, 
the  colorless  cheek,  and  an  air  of  profound  ie\erence, 
announced  the  depth  and  solemn  character  of  the  feelings 
with  which  she  was  prepared  to  take  the  vow. 

The  marriage  rites  were  celebrated  by  the  good  clavier, 
who,  not  content  with  persuading  the  baron  to  make  this 
sacrifice  of  his  prejudices,  had  asked  permission  to  finish 
the  work  he  had  so  happily  commenced,  by  pronouncing 
the  nuptial  benediction.  Melchoir  de  Willading  listened 
to  the  short  ceremony  with  silent  self-approval.  He  felt 
disposed  at  that  instant  to  believe  he  had  wisely  sacrificed 
the  interests  of  the  world  to  the  right,  a  sentiment  that 
was  a  little  quickened  by  the  uncertainty  which  still  hung 
over  the  origin  of  his  new  son,  who  might  yet  prove  to  be 
all  that  he  could  hope,  as  well  as  by  the  momentary  satis¬ 
faction  he  found  in  manifesting  his  independence  by  be¬ 
stowing  the  hand  of  his  daughter  upon  one  whose  merit 
was  so  much  better  ascertained  than  his  birth.  In  this 
manner  do  the  best  deceive  themselves,  yielding  frequently 
to  motives  that  would  not  support  investigation  when  they 
believe  themselves  the  strongest  in  the  right.  The  good 
natured  clavier  had  observed  the  wavering  and  uncertaii 
character  of  the  baron’s  decision,  and  he  had  been  induced 
to  urge  his  particular  request  to  be  officiating  priest  by  a 
secret  apprehension  that,  descended  again  into  the  scenes 
of  the  world,  the  relenting  father  might  become,  like  most 
other  parents  of  these  nether  regions,  more  disposed  to 
consult  the  temporal  advancement  than  the  true  happiness 
of  his  child. 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


485 


As  one  of  the  parties  was  a  Protestant,  no  mass  was  said, 
an  omission,  however,  that  in  no  degree  impaired  the  legal 
character  of  the  engagement.  Adelheid  plighted  her  un¬ 
varying  love  and  fidelity  with  maiden  modesty,  but  with  the 
steadiness  of  a  woman  whose  affections  and  principles  were 
superior  to  the  little  weaknesses  which,  on  such  occasions, 
are  most  apt  to  unsettle  those  who  have  the  least  of  either 
of  these  great  distinctive  essentials  of  the  sex.  The  vows  to 
cherish  and  protect  were  uttered  by  Sigismund  in  deep, 
manly  sincerity,  for,  at  that  moment,  he  felt  as  if  a  life  of 
devotion  to  her  happiness  would  scarcely  requite  her  single- 
minded,  feminine,  and  unvarying  truth. 

“  May  God  bless  thee,  dearest !  ”  murmured  old  Melchior, 
as,  bending  over  his  kneeling  child,  he  struggled  to  keep 
down  a  heart  which  appeared  disposed  to  mount  into  his 
throat,  in  spite  of  its  master’s  inclinations  —  “  bless  thee  — 
bless  thee,  love,  now  and  forever  !  Providence  has  dealt 
sternly  with  thy  brothers  and  sisters,  but  in  leaving  thee  it 
has  still  left  me  rich  in  offspring.  Here  is  our  good  friend 
Gaetano,  too  —  his  fortune  has  been  still  harder — but  we 
will  hope  —  we  will  hope.  And  thou,  Sigismund,  now  that 
Balthazar  hath  disowned  thee,  thou  must  accept  such  a 
father  as  Heaven  sends.  All  accidents  of  early  life  are  for¬ 
gotten,  and  Willading,  like  my  old  heart,  hath  gotten  a  new 
owner  and  a  new  lord  !  ” 

The  young  man  exchanged  embraces  with  the  baron, 
whose  character  he  knew  to  be  kind  in  the  main,  and  for 
whom  he  felt  the  regard  which  was  natural  to  his  present 
situation.  He  then  turned,  with  a  hesitating  eye,  to  the 
Signor  Grimaldi.  The  Doge  succeeded  his  friend  in  paying 
the  compliments  of  affection  to  the  bride,  and  had  just  re¬ 
leased  Adelheid  with  a  warm  parental  kiss. 

“  I  pray  Maria  and  her  holy  Son  in  thy  behalf !  ”  said  the 
venerable  prince  with  dignity.  “  Thou  enterest  on  new 
and  serious  duties,  child,  but  the  spirit  and  purity  of  an 
angel,  a  meekness  that  does  not  depress,  and  a  character 
whose  force  rather  relieves  than  injures  the  softness  of  thy 
sex,  can  temper  the  ills  of  this  fickle  world,  and  thou  mayst 
justly  hope  to  see  a  fair  portion  of  that  felicity  whit’  thy 


486 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


young  imagination  pictures  in  such  golden  colors.  And, 
thou,”  he  added,  turning  to  meet  the  embrace  of  Sigismund, 

“  whoever  thou  art  by  the  first  disposition  of  Providence, 
thou  art  now  rightfully  dear  to  me.  The  husband  of  Mel¬ 
chior  de  Willading’s  daughter  would  ever  have  a  claim  upon 
his  most  ancient  and  dearest  friend,  but  we  are  united  by  a 
tie  that  has  the  interest  of  a  singular  and  solemn  mystery. 
My  reason  tells  me  that  I  am  punished  for  much  early  and 
wanton  pride  and  willfulness,  in  being  the  parent  of  a  child 
that  few  men  in  any  condition  of  life  could  wish  to  claim, 
while  my  heart  would  fain  flatter  me  with  being  the  hither  < 
of  a  son  of  whom  an  emperor  might  be  proud  !  Thou  art, 
and  thou  art  not,  of  my  blood.  Without  these  proofs  of 
Maso’s  and  the  testimony  of  the  dying  monk,  I  should  pro¬ 
claim  thee  to  be  the  latter  without  hesitation  ;  but  be  thou 
what  thou  mayst  by  birth,  thou  art  entirely  and  without 
alloy  of  my  love.  Be  tender  of  this  fragile  flower  that 
Providence  hath  put  under  thy  protection,  Sigismund  ;  cher¬ 
ish  it  as  thou  valuest  thine  own  soul ;  the  generous  and 
confiding  love  of  a  virtuous  woman  is  always  a  support,  fre¬ 
quently  a  triumphant  stay,  to  the  tottering  principles  of  man. 
Oh !  had  it  pleased  God  earlier  to  have  given  me  Angiolina, 
how  different  might  have  been  our  lives !  This  dark  uncer¬ 
tainty  would  not  now  hang  over  the  most  precious  of  human 
affections,  and  my  closing  hour  would  be  blessed.  Heaven 
and  its  saints  preserve  ye  both,  my  children,  and  preserve 
ye  long  in  your  present  innocence  and  affection !  ” 

The  venerable  Doge  ceased.  The  effort  which  had  ena¬ 
bled  him  to  speak  gave  way,  and  he  turned  aside  that  he 
might  weep  in  the  decent  reserve  that  became  his  station 
and  years. 

Until  now  Marguerite  had  been  silent,  watching  the 
countenances,  and  drinking  in  with  avidity  the  words  of  the 
different  speakers.  It  was  now  her  turn.  Sigismund  knelt 
at  her  feet,  pressing  her  hands  to  his  lips  in  a  manner  to 
show  that  her  high,  though  stern  character,  had  left  deep 
traces  in  his  recollection.  Releasing  herself  from  his  con¬ 
vulsed  grasp,  for  just  then  the  young  man  felt  intensely  the 
violence  of  severing  those  early  ties  which,  in  his  case,  had 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


487 


perhaps  something  of  a  wild  romance  from  their  secret 
nature,  she  parted  the  curls  on  his  ample  brow,  and  stood 
gazing  long  at  his  face,  studying  each  lineament  to  its  mi¬ 
nutest  shade. 

“  No,”  she  said,  mournfully  shaking  her  head,  “  truly 
thou  art  not  of  us,  and  God  hath  dealt  mercifully  in  taking 
away  the  innocent  little  creature  whose  place  thou  hast  so 
long  innocently  usurped  !  Thou  wert  dear  to  me,  Sigis- 
mund  —  very  dear  —  for  I  thought  thee  under  the  curse 
of  my  race  ;  do  not  hate  me,  if  I  say  my  heart  is  now  in  the 
grave  of  ”  — 

“  Mother !  ”  exclaimed  the  young  man,  reproachfully. 

“  Well,  I  am  still  thy  mother,”  answered  Marguerite, 
smiling,  though  painfully  ;  “  thou  art  a  noble  boy,  and  no 
change  of  fortune  can  ever  alter  thy  soul.  ’Tis  a  cruel 
parting,  Balthazar,  and  I  know  not,  after  all,  that  thou  didst 
well  to  deceive  me ;  for  I  have  had  as  much  grief  as  joy 
in  the  youth  —  grief,  bitter  grief,  that  one  like  him  should 
be  condemned  to  live  under  the  curse  of  our  race  —  but  it  is 
ended  now  —  he  is  not  of  us  —  no,  he  is  no  longer  of  us !  ” 

This  was  uttered  so  plaintively  that  Sigismund  bent  his 
face  to  his  hands  and  sobbed  aloud. 

“  Now  that  the  happy  and  proud  weep,  ’tis  time  that  the 
wretched  dried  their  tears,”  added  the  wife  of  Balthazar, 
looking  about  her  with  a  sad  mixture  of  agony  and  pride 
struggling  in  her  countenance  ;  for,  in  spite  of  her  profes¬ 
sions,  it  was  plain  that  she  yielded  her  claim  on  the  noble 
youth  with  deep  yearnings  and  an  intense  agony  of  spirit. 
“We  have  one  consolation,  at  least,  Christine  —  all  that  are 
not  of  our  blood  will  not  despise  us  now  !  Am  I  right, 
Sigismund  —  thou,  too,  wilt  not  turn  upon  us  with  the 
world,  and  hate  those  whom  thou  once  loved  ?  ” 

“  Mother,  mother,  for  the  sake  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  do 
not  harrow  my  soul !  ” 

“  I  will  not  distrust  thee,  dear ;  thou  didst  not  drink  at 
my  breast,  but  thou  hast  taken  in  too  many  lessons  of  the 
truth  from  my  lips  to  despise  us  —  and  yet  thou  art  not  of 
us ;  thou  mayst  possibly  prove  a  prince’s  son,  and  the  world 
so  hardens  the  heart  —  and  they  who  have  been  sorely 
pressed  upon  become  suspicious  ”  — 


488 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


“  For  the  love  of  God,  cease,  mother,  or  thou  wilt  break 
my  heart !  ” 

“  Come  hither,  Christine.  Sigismund,  this  maiden  goes 
with  thy  wife ;  we  have  the  greatest  confidence  in  the 
truth  and  principles  of  her  thou  hast  wedded,  for  she  has 
been  tried  and  not  found  wanting.  Be  tender  to  the 
child ;  she  was  once  thy  sister,  and  then  thou  used  to  love 
her.” 

“  Mother  —  thou  wilt  make  me  curse  the  hour  I  was 
born !  ” 

Marguerite,  while  she  could  not  overcome  the  cold  dis¬ 
trust  which  habit  had  interwoven  with  all  her  opinions, 
felt  that  she  was  cruel,  and  she  said  no  more.  Stooping, 
she  kissed  the  cold  forehead  of  the  young  man,  gave  a 
warm  embrace  to  her  daughter,  over  whom  she  prayed  fer¬ 
vently  for  a  minute,  and  then  placed  the  insensible  girl 
in  the  open  arms  of  Adelheid.  The  awful  workings  of 
nature  were  subdued  by  a  superhuman  will,  and  she  turned 
slowly  towards  the  silent,  respectful  crowd,  who  had 
scarcely  breathed  during  this  exhibition  of  her  noble  char¬ 
acter. 

“  Doth  any  here,”  she  sternly  asked,  “  suspect  the  inno¬ 
cence  of  Balthazar  ?  ” 

“  None,  good  woman,  none  !  ”  returned  the  bailiff,  wip¬ 
ing  his  eyes ;  “  go  in  peace  to  thy  home,  o’  Heaven’s  sake, 
and  God  be  with  thee  !  ” 

"  He  stands  acquitted  before  God  and  man  !  ”  added  the 
more  dignified  chatelain. 

Marguerite  motioned  for  Balthazar  to  precede  her,  and 
she  prepared  to  quit  the  chapel.  On  the  threshold  she 
turned  and  cast  a  lingering  look  at  Sigismund  and  Chris¬ 
tine.  The  two  latter  were  weeping  in  each  other’s  arms, 
and  the  soul  of  Marguerite  yearned  to  mingle  her  tears 
with  those  she  loved  so  well.  But,  stern  in  her  resolu¬ 
tions,  she  stayed  the  torrent  of  feeling  which  would  have 
been  so  terrible  in  its  violence  had  it  broken  loose,  and 
followed  her  husband  with  a  dry  and  glowing  eye.  They 
descended  the  mountain  with  a  vacuum  in  their  hearts 
which  taught  even  this  persecuted  pair,  that  there  are 
griefs  in  nature  that  surpass  all  the  artificial  woes  of  life 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


489 


The  scene  just  related  did  not  fail  to  disturb  the  spec¬ 
tators.  Maso  dashed  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  and  seemed 
touched  with  a  stronger  working  of  sympathy  than  it  ac¬ 
corded  with  his  present  policy  to  show,  while  both  Conrad 
and  Pippo  did  credit  to  their  humanity,  by  fairly  shedding 
tears.  The  latter,  indeed,  showed  manifestations  of  a  sen¬ 
sibility  that  is  not  altogether  incompatible  with  ordinary 
recklessness  and  looseness  of  principle.  He  even  begged 
leave  to  kiss  the  hand  of  the  bride,  wishing  her  joy  with 
fervor,  as  one  who  had  gone  through  great  danger  in  her 
company.  The  whole  party  then  separated  with  an  ex¬ 
change  of  cordial  good  feeling  which  proves  that,  however 
much  men  may  be  disposed  to  jostle  and  discompose  their 
fellows  in  the  great  highway  of  life,  nature  has  infused 
into  their  composition  some  great  redeeming  qualities  to 
make  us  regret  the  abuses  by  which  they  have  been  so 
much  perverted. 

On  quitting  the  chapel,  the  whole  of  the  travellers  made 
their  dispositions  to  depart.  The  bailiff  and  the  chatelain 
went  down  towards  the  Rhone,  as  well  satisfied  with  them¬ 
selves  as  if  they  had  discharged  their  trust  with  fidelity  by 
committing  Maso  to  prison,  and  discoursing  as  they  rode 
along  on  the  singular  chances  which  had  brought  a  son  of 
the  Doge  of  Genoa  before  them,  in  a  condition  so  ques¬ 
tionable.  The  good  Augustines  helped  the  travellers  who 
were  destined  for  the  other  descent  into  their  saddles,  and 
acquitted  themselves  of  the  last  act  of  hospitality  by  fol¬ 
lowing  the  footsteps  of  the  mules,  with  wishes  for  their 
safe  arrival  at  Aoste. 

The  path  across  the  Col  has  been  already  described. 
It  winds  along  the  margin  of  the  little  lake,  passing  the 
site  of  the  ancient  temple  of  Jupiter  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  convent.  Sweeping  past  the 
northern  extremity  of  the  little  basin,  where  it  crosses  the 
frontiers  of  Piedmont,  it  cuts  the  ragged-  wall  of  rock,  and, 
after  winding  en  corniche  for  a  short  distance  by  the  edge 
of  a  fearful  ravine,  it  plunges  at  once  towards  the  plains  of 
Italy. 

As  there  was  a  desire  to  have  no  unnecessary  witnesses 


440 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


of  Maso’s  promised  revelations,  Conrad  and  Pippo  had 
been  advised  to  quit  the  mountain  before  the  rest  of  the 
party,  and  the  muleteers  were  requested  to  keep  a  little  in 
the  rear.  At  the  point  where  the  path  leaves  the  lake, 
the  whole  dismounted,  Pierre  going  ahead  with  the  beasts, 
with  a  view  to  make  the  first  precipitous  pitch  from  the 
Col  on  foot.  Maso  now  took  the  lead.  When  he  reached 
the  spot  where  the  convent  is  last  in  view,  he  stopped  and 
turned  to  gaze  at  the  venerable  and  storm-beaten  pile. 

“  Thou  hesitatest,”  observed  the  Baron  de  Willading, 
who  suspected  an  intention  to  escape. 

“  Signore,  the  look  at  even  a  stone  is  a  melancholy 
office,  when  it  is  known  to  be  the  last.  I  have  often 
climbed  to  the  Col,  but  I  shall  never  dare  do  it  again ;  for, 
though  the  honorable  and  worthy  chatelain  and  the  most 
worthy  bailiff  are  willing  to  pay  their  homage  to  a  Doge 
of  Genoa  in  his  own  person,  they  may  be  less  tender  of 
his  honor  when  he  is  absent.  Addio,  caro  San  Bernardo  ! 
Like  me,  thou  art  solitary  and  weather-beaten,  and,  like 
me,  though  rude  of  aspect,  thou  hast  thy  uses.  We  are 
both  beacons  —  thou  to  tell  the  traveller  where  to  seek 
safety,  and  I  to  warn  him  where  danger  is  to  be  avoided.” 

There  is  a  dignity  in  manly  suffering,  that  commands 
our  sympathies.  All  who  heard  this  apostrophe  to  the 
abode  of  the  Augustines  were  struck  with  its  simplicity 
and  its  moral.  They  followed  the  speaker  in  silence, 
however,  to  the  point  where  the  path  makes  its  first  sud¬ 
den  descent.  The  spot  was  favorable  to  the  purpose  of 
II  Maledetto.  Though  still  on  the  level  of  the  lake,  the 
convent,  the  Col,  and  all  it  contained,  with  the  exception 
of  a  short  line  of  its  stony  path,  were  shut  from  their  view, 
by  the  barrier  of  intervening  rock.  The  ravine  lay  be¬ 
neath,  ragged,  ferruginous,  and  riven  into  a  hundred  faces 
by  the  eternal  action  of  the  seasons.  All  above,  beneath, 
and  around  was  naked,  and  chaotic  as  the  elements  of  the 
globe  before  they  received  the  order-giving  touch  of  the 
Creator. 

“  Signore,”  said  Maso,  respectfully  raising  his  cap,  and 
speaking  with  calmness,  “  this  confusion  of  nature  resem* 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


441 


bles  my  own  character.  Here  everything  is  torn,  sterile, 
and  wild ;  but  patience,  charity,  and  generous  love  have 
been  able  to  change  even  this  rocky  height  into  an  abode 
for  those  who  live  for  the  good  of  others.  There  is  none 
so  worthless  that  use  may  not  be  made  of  him.  We  are 
types  of  the  earth,  our  mother  ;  useless  and  savage,  or  re¬ 
paying  the  labor  that  we  receive,  as  we  are  treated  like 
men,  or  hunted  like  beasts.  If  the  great,  and  the  power¬ 
ful,  and  the  honored  would  become  the  friends  and  moni¬ 
tors  of  the  weak  and  ignorant,  instead  of  remaining  so 
many  watch-dogs  to  snarl  and  bite  all  that  they  fear  may 
encroach  on  their  privileges,  raising  the  cry  of  the  wolf 
each  time  that  they  hear  the  wail  of  the  timid  and  bleat¬ 
ing  lamb,  the  fairest  works  of  God  would  not  be  so  often 
defaced.  I  have  lived,  and  it  is  probable  that  I  shall  die, 
an  outlaw ;  but  the  severest  pangs  I  have  ever  known 
come  from  the  mockery  which  accuses  my  nature  of 
abuses  that  are  the  fruits  of  your  own  injustice.  That 
stone,”  kicking  a  bit  of  rock  from  the  path  into  the  ravine 
beneath,  “  is  as  much  master  of  its  direction  after  my  foot 
has  set  its  mass  in  motion,  as  the  poor  untaught  being  who 
is  thrown  upon  the  world,  despised,  unaided,  suspected, 
and  condemned  even  before  he  has  sinned,  has  the  com¬ 
mand  of  his  own  course.  My  mother  was  fair  and  good. 
She  wanted  only  the  power  to  withstand  the  arts  of  one, 
who,  honored  in  the  opinions  of  all  around  her,  undermined 
her  virtue.  He  was  great,  noble,  and  powerful ;  while  she 
had  little  beside  her  beauty  and  her  weakness.  Signori,  — 
the  odds  against  her  were  too  much.  I  was  the  punish¬ 
ment  of  her  fault.  I  came  into  a  world  then,  in  which 
every  man  despised  me  before  I  had  done  any  act  to  de¬ 
serve  its  scorn.” 

“  Nay,  this  is  pushing  opinion  to  extremes  !  ”  inter¬ 
rupted  the  Signor  Grimaldi,  who  listened  breathlessly  to 
the  syllables  as  they  came  from  the  other’s  tongue. 

“We  began,  Signori,  as  we  have  ended;  distrustful, 
and  struggling  to  see  which  could  do  the  other  the  most 
harm.  A  reverend  and  holy  monk,  who  knew  my  history, 
would  have  filled  a  soul  with  heaven  that  the  wrongs  of 


442 


THE  HEADSMAN. 


the  world  had  already  driven  to  the  verge  of  hell.  The 
experiment  failed.  Homily  and  precept  ”  —  Maso  smiled 
bitterly  as  he  continued  —  “  are  but  indifferent  weapons  to 
fight  with  against  hourly  wrongs  ;  instead  of  becoming  a 
cardinal  and  the  counselor  of  the  head  of  the  Church,  I 
am  the  man  ye  see.  Signor  Grimaldi,  the  monk  who 
gave  me  his  care  was  Father  Girolamo.  lie  told  the 
truth  to  thy  secretary,  for  I  am  the  son  of  poor  Annunzi- 
ata  Altieri,  who  was  once  thought  worthy  to  attract  thy 
passing  notice.  The  deception  of  calling  myself  another 
of  thy  children  was  practiced  for  my  own  security.  The 
means  were  offered  by  an  accidental  confederacy  with  one 
of  the  instruments  of  thy  formidable  enemy  and  cousin, 
who  furnished  the  papers  that  had  been-  taken  with  the 
little  Gaetano.  The  truth  of  what  I  say  shall  be  delivered 
to  you  at  Genoa.  As  for  the  Signor  Sigismondo,  it  is 
time  we  ceased  to  be  rivals.  We  are  brothers,  with  this 
difference  in  our  fortunes,  that  he  comes  of  wedlock,  and  I 
of  an  unexpiated,  and  almost  an  unrepented  crime !  ” 

A  common  cry,  in  which  regret,  joy,  and  surprise  were 
wildly  mingled,  interrupted  the  speaker.  Adelheid  threw 
herself  into  her  husband’s  arms,  and  the  pale  and  con¬ 
science-stricken  Doge  stood  with  extended  arms,  an  image 
of  contrition,  delight,  and  shame. 

“  Let  me  have  air !  ”  exclaimed  the  prince ;  “  give  me 
air  or  I  suffocate  !  Where  is  the  child  of  Annunziata  ? 
—  I  will  at  least  atone  to  him  for  the  wrong  done  his 
mother !  ” 

It  was  too  late.  The  victim  of  another’s  fault  had  cast 
himself  over  the  edge  of  the  precipice  with  reckless  hardi¬ 
hood,  and  he  was  already  beyond  the  reach  of  the  voice,  in 
his  swift  descent,  by  a  shorter  but  dangerous  path,  towards 
Aoste.  Nettuno  was  at  his  heels.  It  was  evident  that  he 
endeavored  to  outstrip  Pippo  and  Conrad,  who  were  trudg¬ 
ing  ahead  by  the  more  beaten  road.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
turned  the  brow  of  beetling  rock,  and  was  lost  to  view. 

This  was  the  last  that  was  known  of  II  Maledetto.  At 
Genoa,  the  Doge  secretly  received  the  confirmation  of  all 
that  he  had  heard,  and  Sigismund  was  legally  placed  in 


TIIK  HEADSMAN. 


443 


possession  of  his  birthright.  The  latter  made  many  gen¬ 
erous  but  useless  efforts  to  discover  and  reclaim  his 
brother.  With  a  delicacy  that  could  hardly  he  expected, 
the  outlaw  had  withdrawn  from  a  scene  which  he  now  felt 
to  be  unsuited  to  his  habits,  and  he  never  permitted  the 
veil  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  place  of  his  retreat. 

The  only  consolation  that  his  relatives  ever  obtained, 
arose  from  an  event  which  brought  Pippo  under  the  con¬ 
demnation  of  the  law.  Before  his  execution,  the  buffoon 
confessed  that  Jacques  Colis  fell  by  the  hands  of  Conrad 
and  himself,  and  that,  ignorant  of  Maso’s  expedient  on  his 
own  account,  they  had  made  use  of  Nettuno  to  convey  the 
plundered  jewelry  undetected  across  the  frontiers  of  Pied¬ 
mont. 


THE  END 


- 


✓ 

. 


4 


' 


